www.orchardbooks.co.

uk

for Angelo Rinaldi

Thanks, as always, to Catherine, for her
patience, support and ongoing belief. Mr
Henry would surely love you as his own.
Likewise, Lisa in the US, and everyone
involved in touring me through North
America. If I tried to remember you all Id
come unstuck, but I cant forget SheilaMarie, who was always on the end of a
phone when I needed her. Emily, Ann and
Edie, my wonderful media escorts. Elliot
and Kevin, the alligator dudes. Rachael
and her Reading Rockets at WETA, and
Barb Langridge at ABookandaHug.
Nearer to home: the Balne family, Peta

and Paul Seedhouse in Dudley, Joanne and

her Tigger, Rachel and the crew at
Chilwell, Amanda in Norwich, Marilyn
and friends at Norfolk Childrens Book
Centre, Karen and Dennis in Melksham,
Libby and Charlotte in Plymouth,
Margaret and Bethan in North Wales,
Kathy in Hitchin, Christine in Leighton
Buzzard, Ros and Julie in the West
Midlands, Diane at Dixie, Tina in
Northampton (enjoy your retirement), and
Sue and Andy at Simply Books in
Bramhall. Guys, you all know why youre
here.
And last but not least a big thanks to the
tireless Agent Ed, Rod Duncan and his
camera, everyone at LWC, and Jay, who
keeps it all going. Hrrr!

ORCHARD BOOKS
338 Euston Road, London NW1 3BH
Orchard Books Australia
Level 17/207 Kent Street, Sydney, NSW
2000
First published in 2011 by Orchard Books
This ebook edition published in 2011
ISBN: 978 1 408 31442 5
Text Chris dLacey
The right of Chris dLacey to be identified
as the author of this work has been
asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library.

Printed in Great Britain

Orchard Books is a division of Hachette
Childrens Books,
An Hachette UK company.
www.hachette.co.uk

Fool! All that is, at all

lasts ever, past recall;
earth changes, but thy soul and God
stand sure:
what entered into thee
that was, is, and shall be:
times wheel runs back or stops;
Potter and clay endure
Robert Browning

Part One

which has its beginnings

in the
Strmberg Centre for
Auma Therapy
November 3 031

1
Professor Merriman. Eliza. Please, come
in.
Counsellor Strmberg stood at the
doorway of his office and swept a
welcoming hand into the room. He was a
tall, well-built man with pastel-blue eyes
and shoulder-length fair hair. He nodded
at Eliza as she went past, noted her look
of concern, but said nothing. He shook
hands with Harlan and guided him
towards one of the two aumatic chairs
positioned in front of the helegas screen
on the far wall. A gradient of soft pink
colours was playing across it. In the
corner nearest to Eliza, a tall frondulus,
with bell-shaped flowers of variegated

colours, was suspended from the ceiling.

She ran a knuckle down the twisting stem
of the plant and smiled when the flowers
opened a little. She came and sat down
beside Harlan.
Strmberg positioned himself behind a
kidney-shaped desk and placed his hand
on the v:com terminal. Lara, could you
bring David in for me, please?
A moment later another door opened. A
petite young nurse in a pale yellow
uniform walked in with a boy of some ten
or twelve years. The fringe of his nut
brown hair was almost digging into his
dark blue eyes. Mum, he said, going
straight to Eliza. She swept one half of her
stunning red hair behind her ear so they
could touch cheeks in the standard
Co:pern:ican fashion.

You look great, Harlan said, patting

the boys arm. Have you been OK here?
Dad, all Ive done is sleep, David
said, extending his thoughts to everyone
present.
They all laughed and Strmberg said,
Thank you, Lara.
The nurse waved to David and left the
room.
Eliza gently tugged her sons sleeve. He
was still wearing the blue gown and
trousers of the auma centre. They suited
him rather well. Ive told you before, its
polite when youre in society to speak, not
commingle.
Ah, thats my doing, Strmberg said,
coming to the boys aid right away. Ive
been encouraging David these past three
days to use his mind to commingle or

imagineer as much as he likes. It helps us

to measure the full extent of his fain.
No worries on that score, Harlan
Merriman thought. His sons ability to
materialise objects just by thinking about
them was unparalleled, in his experience.
So, hows the therapy progressing? Did
you discover anything about the
dreams?
I dont remember any dreams , David
commingled.
Strmberg came in quickly again.
David is fit and well. A very intelligent
and interesting young man. Hes flown
through every test weve thrown at him
and kept us all amused with his abilities.
Well be sorry to see him leave. As you
know, hes been filmed in our sleep
laboratory and we have recorded

evidence of the disturbances you observed

at home.
Have you? David commingled. Sorry, I
mean, Have you?
Yes, said Strmberg. And that
would support the theory that youre
imagineering in your sleep, though why
you dont remember it is still a mystery.
For that reason, David, I want to continue
your therapy so that we can get this
resolved properly. It wont be here,
though. I need to move you to another
facility.
Oh, said Eliza, whod assumed he
was coming home with them that night.
The sensors embedded within her chair
immediately registered a change in the
auma envelope surrounding its occupant.
Strmberg, looking at the readings on a

monitor only he could see, moved a dial

on his com:puter. Accordingly, Elizas
shoulders lifted and her pretty facial
muscles relaxed.
Will it be more sleep? David
commingled.
No, said Strmberg, swinging in his
chair. This will be an altogether different
adventure.
Harlan sat forward to ask more about it
but Strmberg was quick to speak again. A
little too quick, Harlan thought. Had he
been deliberately cut off?
What Strmberg said was this: There
are the usual tedious formalities, which
will be of no interest to you, David. Why
dont you go and challenge Lara to another
game of Flyng while we sort this out?
Shell be keen to get her revenge, Im

sure. You can see Mum and Dad again

before they leave.
OK, David said. He smiled at his
parents and scooted from the room.
Elizas gaze trailed after him. Before
anyone else could speak she said, Listen,
do you need me for this? She waved a
hand at Strmbergs desk. If Davids
staying in therapy for now, Id prefer to
spend some time with him rather than with
filing answers into a com:puter. Is that all
right, Harlan?
Yes, he said, getting a nod from the
counsellor.
Have as much time as you like, said
Strmberg, gesturing towards the door that
David had gone through.
Thank you, she said. She pressed
Harlans shoulder and left.

So, Harlan said, as the door closed

behind her. What do I have to do?
I want you to watch something,
Strmberg said. A note of seriousness had
suddenly crept into his voice. He moved
his hand across the com:puters neural
interface. An image of David, asleep in a
single bed, appeared upon the helegas
screen. A prompt flashed once and read
pause. Im rather pleased Eliza isnt
with us. I dont think she would have
coped with this very easily.
Harlan narrowed his gaze. What
exactly have you filmed, Counsellor?
Something extraordinary, Strmberg
replied. And he switched the com:puter to
Play.

2
The footage is brief, but dramatic, said
Strmberg. David slept peacefully for
most of the night, with no abnormal spikes
in his consciousness. This segment was
recorded some six hours in, close to the
break of dawn.
Harlan turned his eyes fully to the
screen. For the first few frames, David lay
on his back with his hands tucked under
his therma:sol sheet. Then, just as if a pin
had been stuck into his foot, his head
twitched away from the camera and came
violently back, making an audible whack
against his pillow. He drew up his knees.
His back arched slightly. His hands began
to push the sheet away.

Suddenly, the screen flashed as if a

light had popped. At the same time, David
jerked up in bed with his jaws wide open
and his lips curled back. Two of his teeth
seemed slightly extended. His eyes,
normally so placid and round, slanted
sidewards and briefly changed colour
from their usual deep blue to a strong
shade of brown. With both hands he
clawed wildly at the space in front of him,
though nothing appeared to be occupying
that space. And out of his throat came an
uncommon noise. A roar, not unlike the
sound of an engine.
In a moment, it was done. David sank
back onto his pillow with a thump that
almost buried his face. The only
indication of stress was a trace of saliva
running down his jaw. Whatever force had

animated him, had just as quickly left him

be.
Strmberg paused the film. These
were the only abnormalities we captured.
After this, David slept peacefully with no
other conflicts.
Harlan Merriman stood up and stepped
towards the screen, tilting his head to
examine Davids features. Have you
recorded morphing like this before?
No.
Harlan looked puzzled. But what could
be happening within his fain to make his
eyes change colour and his teeth grow like
that? And what was that noise he made? It
looked as if he was fighting something.
How could he possibly be fighting
something?
Strmberg raised a hand. Sit down.

Theres more to see. He reset the film

clip to its beginning, but this time David
was pictured from the opposite direction.
This is the view from a second camera.
When I run the sequence, youll see
exactly what you saw from camera one.
But I want you to look beyond David to
the window behind him. Concentrate your
attention there. He gave a command and
the film replayed.
Harlan watched closely. The window
next to Davids bed was darkened by a set
of vertical blinds. But as the recording
reached the point where the boys body
jerked up, a series of brightly-glowing
objects appeared in blotches behind the
slats. The objects swelled in size then
slipped through the slats in lines of
coloured light. Strmberg paused the film.

Any guesses?
The only things I know of that move as
rapidly as that are firebirds.
Correct, said Strmberg. The film ran
in reverse, back to the moment where the
colours had materialised. Here it is
again, nine times slower than normal
speed. Watch carefully.
And Harlan did. This time as the
colours slipped through the blinds it was
possible to see them re-expand into the
familiar long-tailed shapes of the
creatures that inhabited every part of
Co:pern:ica. Firebirds. Four of them.
Green, cream-coloured, sky blue and red.
They flew to Davids bed and hovered in
the region of his flashing hands. It was
then that Harlan witnessed something even
more extraordinary. Just in front of David,

over an area approximately two feet long,

the air was rippling in a vertical line, as if
the fabric of the universe was being torn
apart. In the name of Co:pern:ica, whats
that? he muttered, and watched in
fascination as the firebirds went about
sealing the rift with bursts of the whitecoloured fire that was sometimes seen to
issue from their nostrils. When it was
done, they went back the way theyd
come. Only one, the green one, a kindlylooking creature with a yellow plume of
feathers sprouting up between its ears,
stopped to hover in front of David. As the
boy fell back to his pillow, the creature
touched its feet to Davids forehead and
zipped away. The film ended there.
What just happened there? Harlan
gasped.

Strmberg ran a hand through his long

fair hair. I dont know, he answered
truthfully. But Im bound by the nature of
my work to tell you that these pictures
would be of great interest to the Higher.
Youre going to report him?
Its my duty to note anomalies like
this.
But hes a child. Hes barely twelve
spins old. Hell be sent to the Dead Lands.
Well never see him again.
The counsellor gave a solemn nod.
This is only an initial assessment, but its
my belief that your son is a rare
ec:centric.
Harlan buried his hands inside his
pockets and let his worried gaze drift back
to the screen.
The image of David remained there for

a moment before Strmberg hit a button

and cleared it. He could be a danger to
us all, he said.

3
No, no, no. Harlan turned away, shaking
his head. David is a kind, good-natured
child. Im telling you, hes no threat to the
Higher.
Strmberg spoke to the com:puter.
Project 42, he said. Load and hold. A
violet light flashed and a few lines of text
scrolled out across the screen. And what
makes you say that?
Without turning to face him Harlan
replied, He materialises nothing more
than any of us would. Yes, he can be
surprising sometimes. But children often
are when theyre learning to develop their
fain. You dont need me to tell you this.
Strmberg, legs crossed, let his chair

swing. Give me an example.

Of his constructs?
Yes. Anything unusual or surprising,
as you put it.
Harlan came and sat down again,
perching on the lip of one of the aumatic
chairs. Strmberg switched its correctors
off. All right. Recently he imagineered a
katt. I know theres nothing odd about that,
but this katt was different from any Ive
ever seen before.
In what way?
It was imperfect.
Strmberg lifted his fingers off the chair
arm. Go on.
It has a small piece missing from its
left ear.
Has? You havent corrected the
flaw?

Harlan pressed his lips together and

sighed. Eliza pointed it out to him. But
when she offered to help him right it or
produce another katt, he refused. We
assumed at first that he hadnt understood
the template properly, but it soon became
clear that hed introduced the flaw
deliberately. It gave Boon thats what he
named the katt character, he said.
Counsellor Strmberg raised an
eyebrow. Interesting choice of word.
Have you gone into this with him?
Harlan shook his head.
And he does this kind of thinghow
often?
Look, Counsellor
Thorren, said Strmberg. Id be
happier if you called me Thorren. I think
we might be seeing quite a lot of each

other and formal assignations will soon

become tiring. He placed his hands on
the table and adopted a calm, professional
tone. I understand that you feel youre
betraying David by giving me information
like this. But the laws of my profession
are quite straightforward. The Higher
expect me to thoroughly investigate cases
of this nature and keep an active register
of innovative anomalies. They also expect
an honest testimony from the subject
concerned or those involved with the said
subject. Honesty is beauty, and beauty is
perfection. Perfection maintains the Grand
Design. Anything that attempts to
challenge that continuity could be
damaging to our shared consciousness.
This is why ec:centrics, even one as young
as David, have to be monitored and, if

necessary, resolved. That is the

Co:pern:ican way. However, there is a
great deal of flexibility in these cases and
it is left to the integrity of the counsellor
involved as to what action is to be taken.
Harlan looked up.
Everything youve
told
me,
Strmberg said, confirms that David is
aberrant. The film of his disturbed sleep
patterns supports this.
Harlan felt his auma wane. So far, little
had been said about the film. How much
aberrance did Strmberg need to
condemn David to the Dead Lands, or
even de:construction? Very little, Harlan
suspected. And yet the thoughtful look in
the counsellors eyes suggested that he
was not about to follow standard
procedures. And so it proved to be when

he said, I will need to log a report of

these disturbances but so far, the only
two people who have seen what camera
two has seen are you and I.
Are you suggesting we hide this?
Strmberg pursed his lips. I will
report what was seen from camera one. If
it comes to the attention of the Higher and
they choose to send in another
investigator, that will be another matter.
Why? asked Harlan. Why would you
do that? Why would a distinguished auma
therapist put his career at risk for the sake
of my son?
Strmberg shook his head. I dont
know, he said plainly (and with shining
honesty, Harlan thought). Your son
intrigues me possibly because hes your
son.

Youre interested in my work?

Strmberg nodded. Not long ago, I
attended your lecture at the Ragnar
Institute. I found your concept of thought
frameworks very illuminating, particularly
the way you hinted at the suggestion that
what we imagineer on Co:pern:ica might
also be happening, with slight variations,
in an infinite number of parallel universes.
It was the word variations that gripped
me most. It made me wonder what wed
be like if we all existed on another world,
in a slightly different guise. You, me,
Eliza David. With that, he swung his
chair towards the helegas screen. My
com:puters were able to record a great
deal of data about the rift that appeared
over Davids body co:ordinates and
other physical factors. Like me, you must

be wondering what it was and what

caused it. As Davids counsellor, I have
the authority to call in any expertise I
require to resolve his case. Im calling in
you, his father. The file I recorded, along
with the film, will be downloaded to a
secure server at your laboratory. Its
simply labelled Project 42. In any
correspondence, thats how youll refer to
it. I want you to analyse Project 42 and
find out what happened while your son
was sleeping. Report your findings to me,
and only to me. Meanwhile, Im going to
be conducting some research of my own
from a different angle.
The firebirds? Harlan guessed.
Strmberg nodded. The greatest
mystery on Co:pern:ica just got a little
more puzzling, dont you think? Why did

these creatures that we all take for granted

come to Davids aid? Because I have no
doubt that they did. Did he call them? Or
were they watching him, perhaps?
And how were they able to seal that
rift?
Indeed, said Strmberg. Now, as I
said earlier, I need to send David away
for a while. It will seem suspicious if I
dont. Often in these cases it helps to
place the subject in a completely neutral
environment.
Youre preparing a construct for him?
Not a construct a reality, Thorren
Strmberg said. Im sending David to a
librarium.

4
A librarium?
Elizas face was so filled with shock
that Harlan swiftly imagineered a rose. He
put the violet-coloured flower straight into
her hand and was relieved to see its
auma:scents rising visibly towards her
nose and mouth as they began to calm her.
Bizarre, he thought, as he stroked her arm,
to have seen (and felt) such a variety of
emotions in the space of one hour. He put
out a thought for a taxicar and one was
there before hed framed his reply. We
have no choice, he said. If we resist
Strmbergs therapy, he will have to refer
David directly to the Higher. Were not
going to lose our son, Eliza.

He drew her into the taxicar and spoke

their destination: Pod 24, The Crescent
Way. Bushley. The doors closed and the
taxicar sped into the night.
Eliza dropped heavily into her seat,
putting out the thought for no incidental
music, film or colour. For once, she just
wanted to talk. What good can it do to
send him to a place stacked high with
books? Hell be so bored his fain will
justshrivel.
I rather think thats the point, said
Harlan. Strmberg is pretty sure Davids
an ec:centric. His fain is hyperactive, to
the point where his constructs are turning
against him. Hence the bad dreams.
Strmberg believes that a spell in the
librarium will calm him down. The
curator is a very good man, he says. He

unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to

her.
Mr Henry?
He and Strmberg are related
distantly. Were to collect David
tomorrow and take him to the librarium
ourselves. Mr Henry will be expecting
us.
The taxicar swished along the Bushley
clearway. Through its transparent shell,
Eliza could see a narrow river, lit by a
series of hanging lights. She loved the
river and its arched bridge made of stone.
Sometimes she thought she could
imagineer feathered creatures swimming
in pairs on the surface of the water, maybe
even bathing in its swell. But they were
always just shadows, tricks of the light.
The only creatures on Co:pern:ica were

firebirds and katts. Neither of them, she

was sure, liked to get wet. She folded the
paper and handed it back. How long will
he have to stay there?
Until the curator is satisfied that David
is resolved.
Will we be able to visit him?
No.
Eliza brought the rose up to her mouth.
Its colours had seeped into the flesh of her
wrist. She squeezed her eyes shut. When
she opened them again, a distinct redness
was forming in their corners. How can
they change what we imagineered,
Harlan? David is a construct of our
commingled love. If they alter him, if they
dampen him down, arent they denying us
what we wanted? Arent they tampering
with our combined fain, just as much as

his?
Harlan switched seats so that he could
face her directly. Im just as dismayed as
you are, he said. But I believe that
Counsellor Strmberg is acting in our best
interests. He and I have agreed (and
here he chose his words carefully,
covering his thoughts about Project 42)
to liaise closely with Mr Henry about
Davids progress. Hopefully, he wont be
away from us for long. Ill commingle
with him tomorrow and make him
understand that this really is just an
adventure. Something weve all done
once. And I thought we might arrange a
treat for his return.
Eliza looked up. She read in her
husbands face what was clear in his
mind. A child? You think its the right

time for us to apply for another?

Yes, I do, Harlan said. The girl
weve always wanted. A sister for
David.
Penelope, Eliza said, brightening up.
Harlan Merriman took his wifes hand
in his and kissed it. Penny, he said. I
like Penny.

5
The next day, November 4, 031, Harlan
and Eliza took a taxicar back to the
therapy centre to pick up David. The three
were then whisked away on a journey that
was going to change all their lives. The
only address Harlan gave was the
Bushley librarium. He knew of no other
and the taxicar did not require further
clarification.
Eliza remained silent throughout the
journey, leaving Harlan to entertain
David. The boy was on his feet for most
of the way, imagineering an escort for
them. He described to his father what he
could see through the shell of the taxicar:
a small fleet of golden-coloured rocket

vehicles guiding them to their glorious

destination. Harlan joined in the game,
extending his fain to construct pilots for
the vehicles square-chinned men in
astro:nautic uniforms who saluted David
as they flew past, all of them wearing The
Crescent Way badge.
Pity, then, Eliza thought, that their
journeys end did not match up to its
stately approach. When she stepped out of
the taxicar she shuddered. They were in a
wilderness. A calm and pleasant
wilderness of green fields speckled with
white and yellow daisies that swung back
and forth on the gentlest of breezes (all
maintained, she imagined, on low-level
diligence from the Higher). No pods or
other buildings on any horizon. Just fields
and sky and flowers and clouds.

And the librarium.

It rose out of the flowers like a great
grey monolith. A single tall building with
an uncountable number of floors. The
upper floors were lost in wisps of cloud
and the whole structure seemed to be
bending backwards as though it had
reached a critical mass and was ready to
topple over at any moment. Fine red sand
(or something like it) was raining down
from the joints in the brickwork and being
taken away in skirts on the breeze. At
ground level there was just one door. It
was made of wood (unusually) and was
twice Harlans height. It was already
halfway open, despite the fact that a small
sign badly attached to the door frame
invited visitors to R NG THE BE L.
Harlan moved forward to do just that and

stepped on something that had spilled out

of the doorway. It was a large format
book. He reached down and picked it up.
It must have been thirty spins since hed
seen one. He smoothed a film of the red
sand off the glossy cover and handed it to
Eliza.
The Art of Baking Cakes, she read.
Harlan shrugged. Welcome to the
librarium.
Eliza opened the pages and looked at
several of the ancient digi:grafs. Why do
we keep this stuff? I could easily
imagineer anything in this. I dont
understand what use this is to anyone.
Historical value, Harlan said. He
took the book from her and flipped through
its pages. He showed a digi:graf of a
chocolate gateau to David. The boys eyes

lit up and he quickly imagineered a

miniature version. He gave it to his
mother.
Eliza smiled and de:constructed it.
Bad for your purity of vision, she said.
I think books are rather quaint, said
Harlan. And theyre real, of course, not
constructs. He closed the book and laid it
back in the doorway. Our ancestors
would have relied on these things.
Eliza shook her head and looked up at
the building. Is this real, do you think?
Harlan touched the brickwork, feeling
its roughness, though that in itself was no
proof of authenticity; anyone on
Co:pern:ica could imagineer a brick.
Yes, he said. Id be surprised if
anyone had enough in their fain to put up
something as large as this and still be able

to maintain it.
Eliza sighed and put her hands on
Davids shoulders, pulling him back
towards her a little. Why would
Strmberg send him to a relic like this?
Well, lets begin the process of finding
out. This time, Harlan did press the bell.
The sign above it tilted and clattered to
the ground.
Surprisingly, the bell did work. But
rather than making one distinct sound that
would normally have soaked through the
heart of the building, rooms began to light
up at random, each one making a variant
of a ring or a clang or a trill or a whistle
(Even a buzz, Harlan thought). For the
first time, he realised there were no
coverings of any kind at the windows. No
ultra:plex panes to keep in warmth, just a

few wooden shutters half-open here and

there.
This could take for ever, Eliza tutted
as the noises went on and on and on. She
crossed her arms and frowned.
All of a sudden, David pointed to a
window about eight levels up. An emerald
green firebird had just appeared on the
sill. It made the strange rrrh-ing noise the
creatures often did, popped its eyes
slightly and went back into the room. The
librarium bell stopped.
For a moment, all the visitors could
hear was the swish of the breeze and the
gentle rustle of sand falling amongst the
flowers. Then a head appeared through the
window where the firebird had been. A
young girl. No older than David. Her hair
was the colour of night. And though a lot

of it was falling in straggles from her face,

half-hiding most of the defining bone
structure, it was impossible not to see the
wild beauty in her shining eyes.
Yes? she said curtly.
Were here to see Mr Henry, said
Harlan.
Hes sleeping, said the girl.
Through that racket? Eliza muttered.
The wild eyes immediately picked her
out. Who are you?
Eliza tapped her foot. I dont think I
like your impertinence, she said,
extending her fain to touch the girls auma
and register her official displeasure.
The girl smirked and put a curl of her
hair into her mouth. None of that fain
stuffs welcome here. And Mr Henry
doesnt like people who try it. Whos he?

She tilted her chin at David.

Hes our son, said Harlan. He has
an appointment. Now go and fetch Mr
Henry or Ill come in there and find him
myself.
At this, the girl hooted with laughter.
Yeah? And how many spins of
Co:pern:ica have you got?
Thats it, were leaving, Eliza said.
Harlan, get a car. She tapped Davids
shoulder.
But David stayed exactly where he was,
staring up at the girl and smiling. And
before his mother could speak again, the
boy did something quite amazing. He
imagineered a bubble on the palm of his
hand and blew it gently into the air. Up it
floated, to the eighth level, where it
stopped and hovered right in front of the

girl.
Whats this? she said, for the first
time thrown.
From the ground, David showed her
what she should do with it: prod (gently),
with a finger.
The girl studied the floating sphere,
fascinated by the way its flimsy outer
surface seemed to change colour if she
tilted her head. She frowned at David,
then prodded the thing. It immediately
burst. The girl gasped and put out a hand
to catch what she thought was a glimmer
of light. She gasped again when she saw
what shed really caught. Water, she
said. You made a raindrop float.
Harlan? Eliza said, glancing
sideways at her husband. What just
happened? How did he do that?

I dont know, Harlan whispered,

though there was no denying what he had
seen. His son had changed the property of
a droplet of water and made it lighter than
air. Somehow, hed challenged the force
of G:ravity.
A clatter of feet on stairs made the
professor look towards the door. The girl
heaved it open, cussing as she spilled a
whole stack of books into the foyer behind
her. She stepped outside wearing a jetblack dress which splayed out in large
puffy pleats around her knees and a pair of
black and white kicker boots, one of
which was unlaced. She went right up to
David and looked him in the eye. The two
were, as it happened, precisely the same
height. Speak, she said.
Eliza tutted at the girls arrogance. He

doesnt like to, she said. He prefers to

commingle.
Not allowed here, the girl said to
David, shaking her head and making her
feral hair cascade right across her
shoulders. Mr Henry likes words. Tell
me your name.
David, he said.
Both parents raised an eyebrow.
The girl smiled. She looked at her
wetted hand and used it to take David by
his. Im Rosa, she said. This is my
librarium, and you can come in.

6
Your librarium? Harlan said.
Rosa bobbed her head. OK, she
drawled, spare me the pedantry. (Which
made Harlan laugh and Eliza frown.) It
might as well be mine. She crouched
down and picked a daisy. Ive been here
for eight or nine spins at least.
Nine spins? said Eliza, sounding
alarmed. (A spin was a term used to
describe the flat rotation of Co:pern:ica
round its fire star. Sometimes people
called it a year.)
Harlan touched her arm. Why were
you brought here, Rosa?
My family didnt want me, she said
with a shrug. She threw the flower aside

and took Davids hand. Come on, Ive

got lots to show you. They were almost
through the librarium door when Eliza
called out, David?
He turned and let go of Rosas hand.
Although displays of affection were
uncommon
on
Co:pern:ica,
he
nevertheless came back and put his arms
around his mother.
You wont forget us? she said, unsure
of how to hold him.
David gave her a puzzled look. Its an
adventure, isnt it? He turned to his
father.
Harlan was looking at the discarded
daisy, lying in the grass, its life juice
steadily seeping away. If this place had
been a construct, the Higher would have
fixed the daisy by now. He glanced up at

the silent building and nodded. Yes, a

proper adventure, he muttered. And with
that he waved goodbye to his son, drew
Eliza into the taxicar and took her away.
Hey. New boy. Rosa was at one of
the ground floor windows. She had her
elbows on the sill and her chin in her
hands. Cover your eyes and count to ten.
Why?
After ten, you can come in and find
me. And remember, youre not allowed to
extend your fain. If you do, Ill know and
Ill punish you.
Erm, how?
The dark eyes rolled. I wont talk to
you for three whole days.
And this is a bad thing? David thought,
extending his fain so she might commingle
if she wanted to.

She stuck out her tongue. Yes, she

replied.
So you can commingle, then?
Yes, but its not allowed, she said.
It hurts me, anyway. And I wont do it
again or Mr Henry will be cross. Eyes.
Cover. The full ten, OK? Runcey will be
watching. Hes my best friend. Hell know
if you cheat. She pointed to the firebird
in the next window along. It was sitting
with its green wings folded back and a
slightly faraway look on its face.
David shrugged and covered his eyes.
After a not-so-generous ten, he looked
up and saw that Rosa and the firebird
were both gone. Quickly, he ran inside the
librarium, where he soon discovered that
speed of movement was of little advantage
and actually a positive hazard. Books of

all sizes and colours, some glossy-backed,

some dull and plain, some open, some not,
were stacked and strewn in piles of
varying height (including singly) across
the floor of the foyer and again up the
dark, uneven-looking stairs. Picking his
way through them, he turned to his right
and headed for the room he thought Rosa
had spoken from. She wasnt there, but the
scene was exactly the same as in the foyer,
except the walls were also laden with
books, so many that the shelves were
bowing with their weight. As he stumbled
across the room, almost losing his footing
on something called Flamenco Guitar
Made Easy, David found himself on the
threshold of two more doorways, at rightangles to each other. He took the one he
thought would lead him deeper into the

building, convinced that Rosa would be

hiding in the heart of it. She wasnt. In
total, he visited eleven more rooms. And
the only difference between any of them
was that some had windows and some did
not. And in one he found a chair that
rocked, and in another an old-fashioned
easel. In the twelfth room he thought to
glance out of the window and realised, to
his surprise, that the daisy horizon was
shrinking. In other words hed actually
been going upwards, though hed had no
sense whatsoever of climbing.
Fed up yet?
He whipped round. There she was.
Leaning against a doorway, grinning.
I thought Id be kind, she said,
looking at her fingernails. It takes for
ever if you dont know what youre doing.

The librarium is kind ofspatially

arranged. Ill teach you if youre going to
be here for a while. Did you find a
bathroom?
David shook his head.
Clothing closet? she asked a little
hopefully, clearly not happy with the
trousers, shirt and tie he was wearing.
Just books, David said. Hundreds of
them.
Two million, four hundred and eightytwo thousand and sixty-three to be
precise. She grinned like a katt.
David nodded. It was a tall, tall
building. What do you do here?
Store books, she said with a shrug.
Its my job to put them in order. Ill show
you. She stepped into the room, picked
up a book from a heap on the floor and

examined its spine. We do them by

author. Duncan, she read out. This can
go before she scanned the shelves,
Essinger. She reached up on tiptoes and
attempted to push the book into a space
too small for it. So she created a space
instead. This Ringrose shouldnt be
here, she said, and pulled the book
before the Essinger out of its slot,
replacing it with her Duncan. The
Ringrose she simply dropped onto the
floor. Ill do that one another time. I
wonder if Mr Henry is going to ask you to
order them, too. You do know your alph,
dont you? And circling David with her
hands behind her back she chanted, A B
C D E F
G, David said.
He looked up and saw the firebird prick

its ears. Along its iridescent neck, several

of its feathers shimmered blood-red and
orange.
Rosa came to a halt in front of David.
Her pupils dilated as she tilted her head
and looked into his eyes. Why were you
sent here?
To have an adventure, David said,
desperately wanting to add, in thought,
You heard what my father said outside .
But he obeyed the librarium rules and felt
that the building had warmed to him
because of it.
None of this was lost on Rosa. You
sense it, dont you? A hint of excitement
glittered in her eyes. She looked to her
right, drawing Davids attention to a shelf
just above eye level, one of the few that
still had a little space on it. Its books had

tilted sideways. Only one, at the open end,

was standing upright and free. But only for
a moment. David saw it wobble, then lean
and fall against the book beside it.
Nothing had touched it, and he had
certainly not imagineered it, and there was
not enough wind in the room to cause it.
How? he asked. But by then Rosa had
switched her gaze again, beyond him, to
the open window.
Hhh! she gasped. Rain!
She was there in two secs. Her feet
picked out the spaces between the books
so fast that she crossed the floor like a
ghost.
Come and look! she beckoned him,
bouncing on her toes.
David joined her. They were at least
twelve floors up, looking west of the

taxicar route but still seeing nothing more

than green grass and daisies. A rainbow
was arcing through the cloudy sky.
They love this, she said.
The flowers?
Mmm.
And though it was hard to tell from this
height, David thought he could sense them
stretching their stems and widening their
petals. Their colours had changed. From
yellow to pink, from white to pale blue.
Here and there, orange. He put his hand
through the window and turned it, enjoying
the caress of the raindrops on his skin.
The rain brings everything together, she
whispered.
David glanced at her, not sure what she
meant. What made the book fall over?
he asked.

She turned to him and placed her hand

on his heart. As the wetness seeped into
his shirt she said, Before we had fain,
before we were able to imagineer, we
built worlds in our heads with words,
David. Those words are all here, in these
books, in these rooms. The words moved
the book. This building is alive.

7
Hmph, well everything is alive, child.
Rosa and David turned to see a tall and
slightly frail old man, putting a book onto
a shelf on the far side of the room. He was
dressed in very simple clothing: loose
baggy trousers, a shirt with the cuffs
rolled back, and a waistcoat that had a
thread or two undone at the button holes.
His hair, what there was of it, rose in faint
grey wisps around his ears. Liverishcoloured spots could be seen on his scalp.
He seemed kindly enough, though the
overlarge, black-rimmed spex he wore
added a note of austerity to his face. And
one of his teeth was chipped.
This is Mr Henry, Rosa said to

David.
Mmm, went Mr Henry, and continued
with his lecture. Nothing in the universe
is ever still, you see. But some things
appear more still than others. Everything
has auma, from a humble splint of wood to
the raindrops falling past that window.
Auma is life. And life is never static. It
changes and evolves. It grows. You must
be David?
Yes, said the boy.
Welcome to the librarium. Rosa has
shown you how to get around?
Not really. Can someone tell me
where the bathroom is, please?
Mr Henry extended a hand in the
direction of the room next door. Through
there, perhaps?
David aimed a worried look at Rosa. I

came in that way. I didnt see a toilet.

Okay, I cheated a bit, she blushed.
Youre allowed to use your fain to sense
your way around. You have to tune your
auma to the building to do it. If you want a
bathroom, for instance, you put the thought
out and the librarium will guide you
through the quickest route to one. Ive
found nine so far, but I think they move
around. Go on, she nudged him sideways,
before you wet your pants. Oh, and find
something a bit more interesting to wear.
You look a bitretro, if you know what I
mean?
All right, thats quite enough teasing,
said Mr Henry. He brushed a little dust off
Davids shoulder. Join us in my study
when youre done.
Your study? Where is that?

Rosa tapped her head.

Think it. Right.
Runcey will go with you, till youre
used to it, she said.
David looked at the perky little
firebird. It spread its wings and fluttered
to a shelf by the door.
And be polite, Rosa said, following
Mr Henry out of the room. The librarium
doesnt like it if youre disrespectful.
David rested his hand on the nearest
row of books. Bathroom, he thought,
adding please into the mix. He let his
auma dissolve into the books and
immediately felt the slightest of tugs, as if
the molecules in the skin of his chest had
been magnetised to those in the air in front
of him. The librarium had recognised his
request and responded. He strode forward

through the door Mr Henry had pointed to

and felt Runceys soft claws alight on his
shoulder. Confident he wasnt going to
need the birds guidance, he marched
through two more doors, up a flight of
stairs, down a dark and tilting corridor
and stepped into a broom cupboard.
Rrrh! went Runcey. The creature
landed on an upturned bucket, shaking its
head in a gesture of despair. It spread its
wings in a kind of meditative arc.
Youre telling me to think more
clearly?
Runcey did not seem to understand this.
But in a further attempt to be helpful, he
rummaged through several books (even
here, amongst the brooms, they had found
a ledge or two) flipping them open and
tossing them aside until he found one with

an illustration. He showed this to David

and circled a wing over it.
You want me to make a picture? In my
head?
Rrrh! went the bird.
David smiled. He understood now
where hed gone wrong. Hed been sloppy
in his intent. The librarium must have
heard broom instead of bathroom. So
he closed his eyes and carefully refined
his thoughts, picturing a tub and a cistern
and a sink. Within twenty seconds, he was
there.
He applied the same tech:nique to
wardrobe and burst through a door into a
closet full of shirts and sweaters (making
Runcey wince). But he was learning
quickly, and by the time hed strolled into
Mr Henrys study, wearing blue denim

jeans, kicker boots like Rosas and a plain

khaki combat jacket over a smart maroon
T-shirt, hed also found a bedroom (a
hammock slung between two bookshelves)
and a room with kitchen implements
hooked onto a wall. He was, he thought,
beginning to get the hang of it.
Wow, said Rosa, sitting cross-legged
on a large cushion. Look at you. All
ready for action or what?
David had been quietly wondering
about this, his course of action, his grand
adventure. He ignored Rosas jibes and
spoke up boldly. Mr Henry, I really like
the librarium. But what am I actually
doing here? When does my adventure
begin?
Mr Henry thought about the question
carefully. He poked around in the drawers

of a desk and found several blunt-nosed

pens of different colours. He took them to
a flipchart and exposed a large sheet of
plain white paper.
Davids mouth fell open in surprise.
Was the old man actually going to write
something? In these days of :coms, no one
ever did that.
But Mr Henry, as Rosa had rightly said,
liked words. Without further ado he
inscribed one in bright red capitals on the
lower part of the paper: ORDER.
Order? queried David.
Mr Henry circled it (twice). Essential
in a librarium, boy.
I already put the books in order, Rosa
piped.
Hmm, said Mr Henry. But its time
to move onto another level, child. Were

double-handed now. Have to make use of

the new pair of hands. He drew a curved
arrow away from order and wrote a new
word, in blue this time: GENRE. Who
knows what that means?
Rosas hand shot up like a daisy stalk.
It means a type of something.
Quite, said Mr Henry. Imagine the
greater order we would have if we put
the books together not just by author but by
type.
Rosas big brown eyes almost popped
from her head.
Wont that take a long time? asked
David.
Oh yes, said Mr Henry. A very long
time.
But wont we geterm, bored?
David said. Boredom was a concept so

alien on Co:pern:ica that hed struggled

for a second or two to find the word.
But Mr Henry understood the concept
well. Not if you both do this, he said.
And he drew another line to another
circled word.
Read? said David.
Mr Henry smiled. Read the books,
David. Read them as you go.
All of them? asked Rosa. She didnt
seem fazed.
Any that appeal to you, Mr Henry
said.
But wont that take even longer?
asked David.
Mr Henry smiled again and completed
the triangle on his chart. Think of the
worlds you will enter, David. Think of the
knowledge you will gain, the enjoyment to

be had. This is your adventure to soak

up the librarium and see what you
become.
Is this what my father wants of me?
Mr Henry lifted his chin and stared at
the boy for a long, long moment. This is
what the librarium wants of you, he said.
You may begin.

8
Two days after leaving his son at the
Bushley librarium, Harlan Merriman
received a high-priority e:com to his
office at the Ragnar Institute for Realism
in Phys:ics. The sender was Thorren
Strmberg. The message was short:

Harlan sent back a message of

acknowledgement, before copying all the
files to an encrypted micro:pen. Then,

dimming the office lights, he sat back in

his chair and ran the films again.
He was on his second playthrough of
the view from camera two when a voice
behind him said, Goodness, is that
David?
Harlan stopped the film at once. A
younger man, a little overweight for his
height, but with an open, pleasant
disposition, was standing just inside the
office door. He was dressed in black
trousers and a plain white shirt. His name
was Bernard Brotherton, Harlans
tech:nical assistant.
Im sorry, Professor, should I leave?
He had guessed from the look on Harlans
face that he had walked in on something
quite private.
Harlan shook his head. No, Bernard.

Come in. I want to show you something.

He ran both films again.
Bernard was practically speechless.
Thats extraordinary, he said, so
stunned by what hed seen that hed only
managed to place a knee on the seat of the
chair next to his boss.
Harlan said, I need to be sure I can
trust you, Bernard.
Bernard shook his head in slight
confusion. The blue of the com:puters
helegas screen glinted off the bald patch
spreading through his hair. Trust? he
queried.
I know its a concept weve largely
forgotten about. But this is not the kind of
thing you see every day. Davids been
experiencing severe sleep problems. Hes
been diagnosed ec:centric. His counsellor

has sent him to a librarium for

observation. Outside of official sources, I
dont want this known.
But theyve given you the films?
Harlan explained what hed been asked
to do. I want to run this through SETH.
Bernard rubbed his chin for a moment,
taking off several flakes of skin. He
reached for the com:puters neural pad
and advanced the film, pausing it when the
rift appeared. That certainly looks like a
spatial enigma. But isnt it equally
possible that David has imagineered all of
this, even the facial changes? Weve all
heard stories about how potent the dream
state can be. Before Harlan could offer a
reply, Bernard let the film run on for
twenty secs and pointed to the screen to
support his argument. Its the firebirds

that make me think its a construct. Why

would they come and fix everything? We
all love them and have our fanciful
theories about them, but there isnt a
single piece of research that points to them
having the level of intelligence necessary
to seal a rift like that.
But to some degree thats the
problem, said Harlan. The definition of
ec:centricity is the ability to imagineer
outside the framework of the Highers
Grand Design. The very fact that David
visualises firebirds rescuing him from an
unknown threat indicates hes reaching
way beyond the limits of the Co:pern:ican
Stencilla. I want to believe youre right,
Bernard, because if youre not, what
were seeing on these films is real. He
swung his chair sideways and spoke a few

words of command to the com:puter.

Several strings of code ran out across the
screen. These files were recorded by
Davids counsellor. They contain the
pro:dimensional co:ordinates of what you
saw in the films. I want you to load them
into the SETH program, using every
probability filter available. It might be
several days before we have a result, but
Im pretty sure SETH will confirm that
what were investigating is a time
horizon.
Bernard closed his eyes momentarily.
His face, in this state, resembled the full
moon. He sat back and placed one hand
behind his head, clutching at hairs that
were no longer present. And then?
A :com light flickered on the wall in
front of them. A video message from Eliza

Merriman. Harlan placed it on hold.

Well deal with that when we know. He
handed Bernard the encrypted pen.
Everything you need is on there.
Bernard nodded. Ill get onto it right
away.
Good man, said Harlan, and clapped
him on the shoulder. The tech:nician left
the room.
Eliza, Harlan said. Her face
appeared in the small :com window.
Sorry to interrupt you at work, but I
thought youd like to know that Ive made
an appointment with an Aunt. She wants to
come over tonight. Is that all right?
That was quick, Harlan replied. Is it
the same one we had for David?
No. I did ask for Aunt Agnes, but she
wasnt available. They assure me this one

is very efficient.
Good, said Harlan, looking pleased.
Im hoping David will be out of the
librarium very soon, so efficiency is
exactly what we need if were going to
surprise him with a little sister. He
smiled and imagineered a picture of their
son with a baby in his arms. Eliza smiled
back. Whats her name, this Aunt, in case
she gets there before I arrive?
Gwyneth, said Eliza. Her name is
Aunt Gwyneth.

9
By the time Harlan Merriman had returned
home that night, the Aunt Eliza had spoken
of was already at the pod. They were in
the gardenaria with Boon, admiring
Elizas latest construct: a rockery, which
shed populated with a dazzling array of
small green plants, many with intricate
leaf structures. It was a beautiful
composition. A real feat of imagineering.
Something which could not fail to impress
even the harshest of Aunts. As he watched
them chatting from the kitchen window,
Harlan saw the Aunt crouch down beside
a group of plants near to the ground. This
was some achievement, for the woman
was dressed in a tight-fitting two-piece

suit, and the skirt was all but clamping her

knees together. He watched her shoo Boon
away, then circle her hand over the place
where the katt had been sitting. Elizas
placid gaze changed in an instant. She was
clearly unhappy about what the Aunt had
done. But by the time the woman had
raised herself, Eliza had fixed a gracious
smile to her face. Quick to realise she
could use his support, Harlan loaded up a
tray with three tall glasses and filled them
with a sparkling white juice. Then he
strolled into the gardenaria, speaking a
greeting. The Aunt turned to face him. She
was older than hed been expecting, with
a sharpness in her eyes that their first
Aunt, Agnes, had not possessed. Next to
the Higher itself, the Aunts were the most
powerful group on Co:pern:ica. This one

bore her authority like a mask. It was

etched deep into the lines of her face.
Even her silver peppered hair, pulled into
a bundle at the base of her neck (a
recognised trademark of her profession)
looked so brittle it would crack if it was
touched. He felt her fain probing his, and
knew that he must not resist. She was, by
the nature of her business, allowed to do
this and Harlan, although he did not
approve of this most invasive manner of
commingling, gave himself up to her. She
could not read his mind, but she could
measure his general auma in an instant. It
was important for her to sense that he was
happy in her presence. Any show of
disrespect might influence her decision to
grant them permission to imagineer the
daughter they wanted. And that would

break Elizas heart.

Harlan, Eliza said, this is Aunt
Gwyneth.
He bowed his head and offered up the
tray. Thank you for agreeing such an
early appointment. A drink, Aunt
Gwyneth? We find this whiteberry
construct very refreshing.
The woman lifted her chin and looked,
almost suspiciously, at the glasses. I do
not like anything fizzy.
Well, I can Harlan began, but Eliza
held up a hand and said, Weve already
had a herbal tea, Harlan. Aunt Gwyneth
has been here for a little while.
Oh, I see. Forgive me, he said. I
was, erm, caught up with something at
work.
You lecture in Realism, I understand?

The womans fain reached out again, like

fingertips pressing at the flesh around his
ears.
That is one aspect of what I do, said
Harlan. And feeling somehow vulnerable
with both hands occupied, he
de:constructed the tray of drinks and said,
Shall we go inside?
Aunt Gwyneth turned on her stocky
little heels. I prefer the gardenaria. I like
the freshness of the air.
Eliza saw an opportunity to gather
ground in this. Harlan, look what Aunt
Gwyneth has done. Shes added a new
construct to the rockery.
Harlan glanced down. Is that
fungus? he said. Growing out between
the rocks were three short stalks with
large grey caps.

Very knowledgeable, Professor, Aunt

Gwyneth said, purring at the same low
level as Boon. (The katt by now had
padded away and was playing with a
piece of tweedy fluff that hed managed to
imagineer the same blue colour, Harlan
noticed, as Aunt Gwyneths suit.) Fungal
constructs are quite a rarity these days.
Rarity? thought Harlan, trying hard to
keep his fain at bay. I thought theyd been

Limited?
Yes.
Not to us.
Harlan gave a respectful nod. Aunts had
a vast catalogue of constructs to call upon,
though how anything with the poor
nutritional value of mushrooms (was that
what they were called?) could be helpful

to anyone was beyond him. He looked up

at Aunt Gwyneth and sensed she was
revelling in a minor victory. Her fatuous
smile reminded him of a finger drawn
across a steamed-up mirror.
So, may we talk about the prospect of
a daughter? He moved forward and took
Elizas hand. Weve completed our
application to the Higher and believe we
are favourably placed to bring a new child
onto Co:pern:ica. We have her image and
her auma traits fixed. We merely ask for
your guidance and approval, to help us
bring together this happy
Tell me about your son, said the
Aunt, cutting him off without a glance. She
was staring instead at two orangecoloured firebirds, which were perched in
Elizas cherrylea tree, hiding themselves

in the thick of the leaves.

Oh. Well, David Eliza began, but
this was just the topic she and Harlan had
been fearing, and she found herself unable
to go on.
Harlan patted her hand. A gesture
which suggested that he should do the
talking. Drawing down calm into his
auma, he said, We imagineered David
over twelve spins ago. Hes been a model
son.
It says in my report that hes
ec:centric, Professor.
Harlan laced his fingers together. The
woman was thorough. He must choose his
words with care. Itstrue that hes
been exhibiting some minor sleep
disturbances, but
When did these terrors begin?

Well, Id hardly describe them as

It is not your place to teach me what I
know! Answer the question, Professor.
Some months ago, he said, curbing
the desire to snap. Was this a test? Was
this woman deliberately trying to provoke
him?
And how does he describe the
dreams?
He doesnt. He appears to forget
everything by the morning. Were not sure
why.
The Aunt closed her eyes. Who is his
counsellor?
Thorren Strmberg.
The corners of the womans mouth
twitched into a sneer.
You disapprove of him? asked
Harlan.

I have heard he is very able, said the

Aunt, though his methods are considered
questionable by some.
In what way? asked Eliza, looking
concerned. We took David to him in
good faith, Aunt. We only want whats
best for our
It is of no matter, Aunt Gwyneth
muttered. She flapped a hand, startling the
firebirds out of the tree. They fluttered
away and landed on the slanting roof of
the pod. Her sober gaze travelled with
them and stayed there. I wish to ask you a
question, Eliza. You put in your
application that you would like your
daughter to inherit the demeanour of those
creatures. Why was that?
Once again, Eliza seemed a little lost
for words. I I find themgraceful,

she said.
Harlan came in again before she could
flounder. Eliza has always had a strong
affinity with the firebirds. Theyre regular
visitors to her gardenaria. They seem at
ease here. We think if we could reproduce
that same mutual fondness, that level of
attraction in our daughter, then
Do you talk to them, Eliza?
What? said Harlan.
My question was intended for your
wife, hissed the Aunt.
Once again, Harlan composed himself.
He bowed and took a step back.
Well, I do talk to them, Eliza said,
playing with a corkscrewing strand of her
hair, they seem to enjoy the sound of my
voice, especially if
Aunt Gwyneth stared at her, probing her

fain. Go on.
especially if I sing, Eliza said. She
looked down at her feet as if she was
ashamed. Its more a kind of humming,
really. Dont ask me why. It just feels
natural. They like it and it seems to attract
them. But I dont converse with them, of
course. That would be silly.
Aunt Gwyneth tapped her manicured
fingers together. Her nails, Harlan
noticed, were completely black. Have
you ever attempted to commingle with
their fain?
Aunt Gwyneth, is this really?
Professor, be silent!
Now it was Elizas turn to signal to her
husband that she was confident enough to
deal with the questions. Yes, she said,
boldly. Havent we all at some time?

With no success, she added into her fain,

though the sentence hardly needed to be
raised. No one had ever linked into the
firebirds consciousness. No one. Not
even an Aunt.
Aunt Gwyneth made her own kind of
humming noise. She strolled down the
gardenaria a way, stopping to admire a
bright yellow rose. I cannot approve your
application, she said.
Eliza covered her mouth. She looked at
Harlan, who immediately placed himself
within Aunt Gwyneths line of sight.
Why? he demanded.
Aunt Gwyneth brushed past him.
Why? he said again, grabbing her
arm.
Harlan, what are you doing?! Eliza
gasped.

Aunt Gwyneth whipped around and

confronted the professor. Her eyes were
wide and green and blazing. How dare
you touch me or question my authority? I
could have you banished to the Dead
Lands for less. The imagineering of a
child is a selfless act that must benefit and
support the continuity of the Design and
the welfare of all Co:pern:ica. You have
already constructed one ec:centric and I
am not convinced you wont do so again.
Harlan reeled as her fain powered into
him. He stumbled back, clutching at the
sides of his head.
Eliza immediately rushed to his aid.
Aunt, please stop this. Harlan means no
harm. Hes a good man. Believe me. Hes
simply disappointed. Weve wanted a
daughter for so long now.

Yet you only decide to call in an Aunt

when your dysfunctional son has been
removed to a librarium.
I Eliza felt the heat in her eyes.
No, its not like that. Penny is not a
replacement for David. I love him dearly.
He
Aunt Gwyneth raised a hand. Enough,
she said. My decision is made. I cannot
grant approval for a daughter at this time.
She glanced down. Boon was pawing
plaintively at Harlans leg. One of the
firebirds had landed on a fence post and
seemed to be carefully observing the
situation. The other had flown away. Aunt
Gwyneth pressed her hands together and
went on another of her little walks. Your
husband will recover in a moment. When
he does, he will be aware that I have

branded him with a warning. This is not

something to be taken lightly. His
temperament is partially the reason for
your sons ec:centricity and should have
been dealt with by your first Aunt. But it is
not the entire reason your son now finds
himself removed from the Design. You are
responsible, too, Eliza Merriman.
Me? Are you saying my auma is
flawed?
Aunt Gwyneth turned. Her eyes were
glowing violet. No, quite the opposite.
There is a purity in you that I rarely
observe in other applicants. As such, I am
prepared to offer you an arrangement. You
will have the daughter you desire, but first
you will come away with me for
training.
Training? said Eliza. Training? In

what?
In this, of course, Aunt Gwyneth said.
She ran a hand down her body. I have
chosen you as an aspirant. You are to
become an Aunt.

10
In the librarium, time seemed non-existent.
True, there were always days and nights.
The windows darkened and lightened
again. The daisies closed and the daisies
opened. A moon rose occasionally. A soft
rain fell. Co:pern:ica span around its
yawning fire star. But to David and Rosa,
this changing scenery was just something
that occurred outside their frame of
reference. All that mattered, to them, was
books.
Now that there were two putting the
librarium in order, the building hummed
with the spirit of competition. And yet it
rarely observed David and Rosa in the
same room for long. For each child had

their own ideas of organisation, and what

this generally translated to was a frantic
crossing of paths, not a selfless joining of
forces. Several times a day nay, dozens
of times a day one child would sweep
past the other, usually with books stacked
up to their chins, en route to whichever
shelf was occupying them. Their snippets
of conversation would go something like
this:
Ive done forty-seven Ls this
morning.
I bet you didnt know there are twentyfour books about cushions. (Thirty-eight,
as it happened; David still had a way to
go with that subject.)
My shelves are so tidy youd faint if
you saw them.
My archaeology collection is going to

fill two rooms.

On top of this there were the reading
exchanges. For when the pair of them
were finally too exhausted to sort or stack,
they would sit down as Mr Henry had
suggested and actually read a text (usually
with food in their hands, for their days had
no timetable and there was no insistence
on formal meals). Rosa was quicker at
reading than David and could whip
through as many as two hundred pages in a
single afternoon. But what David lacked
in speed he made up for in depth. He also
liked to walk as he read, mainly because
Mr Henry did it. Many a time David had
poked his head into a room and seen the
old man sailing through it with a book in
his hand, spouting the words (sometimes
he followed him, just for fun, though the

building seemed to know it and would

eventually steer him off course). Once in a
while, the curator would call both
children to his study and enquire of their
progress. And it was usually David who
gained the most credit when the darts of
factual information were flying.
This was Rosa, for instance: In our
history, there were these things called
pi:anos that were, like, polished wooden
boxes on legs. They had these parts called
keys which sort of looked like teeth
and when you hit the keys with your
fingers they made a sound. People used to
play them and make music come out of
them, which is weird, but there you go.
And what made you read about
pi:anos? asked Mr Henry.
I was doing some Ss, Rosa said. I

found a book written by this man called

Steinerway. I thought they looked
interesting.
Excellent, Mr Henry said. You
might also look out for Petrov, Graveau,
Beckstein and Frazioli. All of them
famous for making these instruments. And
how about you, David? What have you
been reading lately?
I know about the music pi:anos made,
he answered.
Typical, said Rosa, sounding
trumped. She flicked a piece of her
sandwich at him.
Ive been gathering books about
composers, said the boy.
Whats a composer? Rosa asked Mr
Henry.
Think of them as people who

imagineered music for the masses.

Oh, said the girl. She didnt seem
impressed.
I read about a man called Shopan,
said David, who composed melodies so
beautiful on the pi:ano that people
thought he had captured them from the
wind.
Rosa looked through the window at the
stationary clouds. No melodies there
today.
Mr Henry encouraged David to
continue.
People talked in strange ways about
the music he wrote, saying it was as light
as the air, or as easy on the ears as sleep
is on the eyes. They said it was like
poetry. Whats poetry, Mr Henry? Ive
looked for it, but I cant find any.

Mr Henry studied the boy carefully.

Its an ancient, lyrical form of writing.
David thought back to the flipchart Mr
Henry had used on his first day here.
Writing again. Where is it? Can I see
some?
Mr Henry smiled. Its on the upper
floors, David.
The upper floors? said Rosa. A slight
gasp escaped her mouth.
David sat up at once. Ive been
meaning to ask about that. Ive tried to go
there, to the top of the librarium, but I
never get further than
Floor 42. Rosa looked at him and
shrugged. Its right. Ive counted the
windows. You cant count upwards above
42 because of the clouds. I bet Runcey
knows, though. Ive seen him flying up

there. She sent a stream of tongue clicks

across the room.
The firebird, sitting by the window,
preening, turned his head and went rrrh?
Why cant we go up there? David
asked the curator.
Mr Henry pushed his glasses back
further up his nose. You will, he said,
when everything is in order.
Whats it like up there? asked Rosa.
What can you see if you stand on the
roof?
Mr Henry looked at his helpers in turn.
Everything, he said. All the world can
be seen from the roof of the librarium.
This extraordinary, if somewhat
metaphorical, notion almost sent both
youngsters scuttling back to their shelves
that instant. For the incentive in Mr

Henrys statement was clear: whoever

completed their labours first would
probably be the one who made it at least
as far as Floor 43. And what an
achievement that would be.
But he told them the next day must be a
rest day. From now on, there would be
one in every seven, he said. They should
go out. Walk. Enjoy the daisy fields.
Chase around. Play. Be tiresome children.
Make a nuisance of themselves. (He meant
these last two jokingly, of course.) If they
wanted to be helpful, the water butts were
low.
Water! Rosa sat up brightly.
Tomorrow morning, first light. She
elbowed David in the ribs.
What are we doing? he asked.
Getting water, of course!

Of course. Everything was obvious if

you lived in Rosas head.
But he was ready, bright and early, at
dawn the next morning, with a knapsack of
food (mainly biscuits) on his back, leaning
against the wall outside her room when
she emerged. She was surprised to see
him, but pleased, he thought. Shed
changed her clothing: new white kicker
boots, pretty yellow dress. He looked her
up and down, not sure if he should
comment. She folded her arms as if to say,
And what do you think youre staring at?
He wanted to reply but his tongue was in
knots. She knew it, and was soon in
command again. Better tie your laces
up, she sniffed.
Laces? Wasnt he wearing slip-on
shoes? Stupidly, he looked down to check.

The next thing he knew shed pushed him

over and gone running for the fields.
He caught up with her by a circular
wall in an area where the daisies were a
lovely violet colour. He threw down the
knapsack and played a game of this way
and that before she stumbled and he finally
got hold of her.
Agh! she squealed.
With one heave he threw her onto his
shoulder. And though she pummelled his
back with her fists, she knew there was no
escape.
What is this place? he said. The
circular wall was several feet in diameter.
Above it was a v-shaped roof and a
pulley. Suspended from the pulley was a
bucket on a rope. Below the bucket was a
deep, dark hole.

Its a well, of course. Now, put me

down.
Dunno. It looks deep.
I dont mean in the hole!
Hole? he said, pitching forward a
little.
Agh! she squealed again. What are
you doing?
Tripped on my laces.
Oh, fun-nee.
Whats down there? he asked.
Water, stupid. Be careful, will you?
This is my best dress.
Its just a dress, he said. Youll dry
out.
NOOOOO! she screamed, as he made
to let her go.
Instead, he brought her down with a
bump on the wall, keeping his hands

firmly round her waist (for safetys sake,

he later said). She threw her hands around
the back of his neck (in case she lost her
balance, she later said). She shook her
hair from her face and glared at him
through her smoky brown eyes. Do you
hate me? she asked, pouting her lips.
Probably, he said.
She stuck out her tongue and called him
a liar.
In return, he pressed his fingers to her
waist. She screeched with laughter and
tried, with both hands, to slap his chest.
He caught her and held her until she was
still. She stuck out her tongue again.
Dont know what to do now, do you?
she said.
And that was true, he didnt. He looked
at her fingertips, roughened by years of

handling books, and let his thumb glide

across them.
He was sure he felt her tremble.
You dont really hate me do you?
she asked.
He made a show of thinking about it,
but eventually shook his head.
She cocked her head. Do you love me,
then?
Probably, he said, just as Runcey
landed on the roof of the well.
Well, Im spoken for, she laughed,
and blew the firebird a kiss. He
responded, as usual, with a puzzled little
rrrh?
She struggled free and flopped down
with her back to the wall. We forgot the
buckets.
Buckets? David said.

To carry the water. To the librarium.

Oh. Right. Shall I go back?
Only if you never want to see me
again.
He chewed on that a moment, but only
for a moment. Then he sat with his
shoulder pressed against hers, pleased that
she didnt try to move away. He opened
the knapsack and took out the biscuits.
Runcey fluttered to the ground in front of
them.
All of a sudden Rosa said brightly, Im
going to make you a daisy chain. She sat
forward and picked a handful of daisies,
plucking them close to the ground to
preserve the lengths of their bright green
stalks. For the next ten minits she made
David sit back to back with her, so he
couldnt see what she was doing and steal

the secret of how a daisy chain was

made. Content enough to share a biscuit
with Runcey and enjoy the warmth of the
sun on his face, he obeyed. In the distance,
the tall shape of Mr Henry could be seen
strolling the walls of the librarium,
completely lost in a book. David closed
his eyes. Not quite an adventure, a day
like this, but very pleasant all the same.
As he sat there, with Runcey taking
crumbs from his hand and Rosa tutting
ceaselessly about her creation, thoughts of
home began to flash through his mind.
How, he wondered, were his parents and
Boon? Why was it they didnt come to see
him here? Fortunately, any threat of
despondency was soon dashed by Rosas
energetic presence. She showed him the
circle of flowers. He readily deduced that

it was simply made by splitting stalks and

carefully inserting neighbouring ones into
them, but he oohed and aahed in suitable
fashion and was genuinely moved when
she slipped the chain over his hand and
wrist. It was the first real gift hed ever
been given.
He wore it the next day when they went
back to work. By now each child was
building up their catalogues and making a
small, but visible impact on the clutter.
The librarium buzzed in tune to their
industry. But there was one minor flaw in
all this endeavour that neither of them had
worked out, though it was about to be
uncovered with dramatic consequences.
Mid-morning, as Rosa went flashing by
en route to a room, David crowed that his
collection of books on aviation history

was almost complete.

I found this on Floor 29, he said. He
held up a large, rather weighty book that
had a photograph of a bi-winged
aero:plane on the cover.
Rosa skidded to a halt. Let me look at
that, she said.
Caught a little off-guard, David gave it
to her. Aero:planes had not existed on
Co:pern:ica since the origins of global
taxicars, but they were still talked about
fondly in some quarters. David imagined
therefore that Rosa was simply attracted
to the beauty of the obsolete machines. But
it was not the plane she was after at all. It
was the author.
Nyremann, she whispered, measuring
the width of the spine. Ive got a space
on my N shelf in Transport for this.

Thanks, David. Bye. She even had the

temerity to kiss his cheek as she ran.
Hey! he called out. You cant have
that. Itll leave a gap in my collection.
Rosa?! And off he went, charging after
her again.
And so began the fateful chase that led
them to the window on Floor 31, where
Rosa, by then out of breath and out of
options, knew she could run no more.
Hand it over, David said. He was
nearly exhausted too, but had saved
enough energy to come striding, almost
manfully, across the floor.
Rosa raised the book high. Make you a
deal.
What deal? he puffed.
Her mouth curled into a mischievous
grin. A race, she panted. Whoever gets

to it first gets to keep it. Agreed?

David looked at the window and
guessed her intent. No, he said.
But her arm came down and she hurled
the book out. Almost immediately, they
both heard a dreadful thump.
Uh, what was that? Rosa said.
Both children thrust their heads out of
the window. Far below, the book was
lying amongst the daisies.
Poking out from underneath it was an
emerald green wing.

11
Runcey! Rosa gasped.
Hes hurt, said David, turning away
at once. Fetch Mr Henry. Im going down
to see.
Rosa just stood there, pale and
mortified.
David stopped at the door to the room
and looked back. It was an accident, he
said, softening her auma with a huge slab
of kindness. For on a world where
everyone could create what they needed,
what else but an accident would cause any
kind of harm? Even so, Runceys situation
looked desperate and there was no time to
waste. Find Mr Henry, David repeated.
And he dashed downstairs, asking the

librarium to guide him to the ground floor

by the quickest possible route.
It was warm outside. The clouds nearly
absent. The daisy fields still. Barring one
small area of soiled pages and displaced
feathers, all was well. Runcey, David
whispered as he knelt. He lifted the book
and put it aside. The firebird was flat on
his back with his wings splayed out and
his toes curled up. His delicate eyes were
closed. His wonderful ear tufts were limp
and askew.
In all his youthful time on Co:pern:ica,
this was the closest David had come to
actually handling a firebird. His mother
had often desired to tame them, but he
could not recall her, or anyone else for
that matter, ever picking one up. But that
was precisely what he did now. Sliding

his hands underneath the birds wings,

taking care to centre them under its
shoulders where the bones, he thought,
were probably strongest, he lifted it out of
the daisies. Straight away the left wing
tried to flop back. It was weaker than the
other one, presumably broken. There was
a trickle of green fluid from the left ear as
well. And patches of the breast were sore
and grazed. To Davids greater dismay,
the tiny spray of feathers that normally
sprouted up from the top of Runceys head
were all laid flat. He tilted his ear
towards the birds mouth. Not a breath of
air travelling through the nostrils.
Runceys chances of survival seemed
bleak.
Despair and anger raced through
Davids mind. If only he hadnt chased

after Rosa. If only hed let her have the

book. If only Runcey hadnt flown by the
window. If. If. If. The painful stabs of
guilt went on. But as their composite
effect turned into sorrow, it was his body,
not his fain, that was first to respond. Heat
prickled the corner of his eye.
Astonishingly, a droplet of water bloomed
out and settled precariously on his cheek.
David felt the wetness forming but made
no attempt to touch it or dry it. By then he
was simply consumed with the need to do
what he could to save Runceys life. He
squeezed his eyes shut and extended his
fain, hoping to commingle with the
creatures auma. The result was a little
odd. Like anyone who had ever attempted
this before, David couldnt link into the
firebirds consciousness. What he did

feel, though, was a tremendous warmth

seeping into his hands. It spread swiftly up
his arms and circled in the pectoral
muscles of his chest, as if it was seeking
out his thumping heart. The tear drop
struggled to the edge of his chin. Live,
was the intent he put into his fain.
Live.
Suddenly, there was a whoosh of air
above his head and a fearsome squawk
announced the arrival of another firebird.
David, his focus broken, jerked back. The
new bird was twice the size of Runcey. It
was a deep red colour with a purple frill
right around its neck. There was savagery
in its eyes and rage in its auma. All the
warmth David had felt in his chest
suddenly turned to a dreadful chill. He
knew without having to commingle or

speak that the creature judged him

responsible for Runceys fall. Without
another sound, it swept forward and
gripped Runcey in its claws and took off
for the upper floors of the librarium, but
not before it had made its mark on the boy.
As it closed in, it opened its jaws and sent
forth a jet of fire, so white hot that it could
only be described by the thermal patterns
in the air around it. The fire should have
struck David full in the chest. Instead, a
blinding flash of light filled the space
between them, as if something had jumped
in and cushioned the flame. It only lasted a
sec. Long enough for the firebird to leave
with Runcey and David to fall back,
barely conscious. By then, Rosa was close
enough to catch him but not near enough to
be dazzled by the light. Mr Henry was

right behind her.

Whats it done to him? she cried,
clamping Davids forehead. The boy lay
limply against her shoulder. Why did it
attack him? They just dont do that.
Go inside, quickly, Mr Henry said.
Leaning forward, he picked the boy up.
David was frothing lightly at the mouth. A
large proportion of his favourite maroon
T-shirt was bleached and some of the
threads were torn. Mr Henry chewed his
lip and looked up towards the clouds.
Every window that was visible above
Floor 35 was occupied by at least one
firebird. They stared at Mr Henry. Mr
Henry stared at them. When he went inside
the building, they did too.
Only one a pretty, cream-coloured
creature with apricot tufts around its ears

 dropped down and landed amongst the

daisies. It was smaller than the bird that
had come to claim Runcey and nothing
like as fearful. It poddled around
thoughtfully on its long feathered legs,
stopping now and then to drum its claws,
as if it was assessing the situation. It
looked upwards at the window the book
had come through, then at ground level and
the damaged flowers. Suddenly, the lines
of its eye sockets twitched. It tilted its
head. It had spotted something. Lifting its
long, spectacular tail feathers, it walked a
few paces and peered at the ground. There
amongst the squashed and bent-back
flowers was a joined-up ring of violetcoloured daisies. At its centre was a tiny,
glittering object. Extending one foot, the
bird scooped the thing up as best it could

(such a nuisance, not to have paws), then

turned away from the librarium to observe
the item in a better light. What it saw
made all of its feathers stiffen. It had
found Davids tear drop, preserved and
made whole by the energy condensed and
captured inside it: the glowing white
flame of a firebird.

12
Mr Henry carried David inside to a room
that Rosa had never seen before. There
were books in there, of course, but not
nearly as many, and they were all
surprisingly tidy. None lay on the floor or
in piles, for instance. And although there
were gaps to be filled on the shelves,
there was a certain neatness about their
arrangement, which suggested that
someone (Mr Henry, she supposed) had
gathered them together with care, with
love.
But for once, books didnt dominate the
room. Over by the window, bathed in a
slanting cone of light, was a proper single
bed. Rosa hummed in envy when she saw

it. She and David normally slept in

hammocks or on the floor (or occasionally
on a shelf if they were very tired). Mr
Henry laid David down on the mattress,
supporting the boys head with a shallow
pillow. To Rosas surprise the curator
imagineered a blanket, which he flowed
across Davids body. A glass of water
appeared beside the boy as well. And a
small lamp. Rosa gulped and put her
hands behind her back. For Mr Henry to
be using his fain, the situation, she
guessed, was serious.
Is he going to die? She was standing
in the centre of the room looking on. Her
auma was overflowing with guilt.
The curator slid back one of Davids
eyelids. Despite the brilliance of the
firebirds flame, the pupils were

massively swollen. His breathing is

normal but his auma is in stasis. Its
impossible to say if the effect is
permanent. I will need to seek advice. Im
going to my office to make a v:com. I may
have to leave the building for a time. He
parted Davids fringe and stood up to
leave. Stay with him, child. You are
excused your duties in the librarium
today.
Rosa looked at Davids body and
shivered. Butwhat should I do?
The curator paused and took something
from his waistcoat pocket. Rosas pupils
almost grew to the size of Davids. Mr
Henry owned a watch. A ticking thing,
with (what were they called?), oh yes,
hands. Shed never seen one before, not
even imagineered, but knew what they

were from books shed come across on

the subject. (Timepieces. What a quaint
idea.) Mr Henry looked at the watch,
pouted his lips and snapped it shut. Read
to him, Rosa. Thats all you have to do.
Even if he cant hear?
He can hear, said Mr Henry. And in
three quick strides he was out of the room.
So Rosa went to the shelves in search
of something. Though what was suitable in
these circumstances wasnt really clear.
Instinct, as always, would have to be her
guide. The librarium, she told herself,
would not let her down.
The first titles she examined, however,
were dull to the point of knuckle-gnawing
blandness. Who else but Mr Henry would
keep a whole shelf of booksabout
books? Most were to do with the layout of

librariums, though the buildings were

referred to by another name: libraries.
Rosa could not understand this. The
pictures of the libraries were much like
her present surroundings (internally, at
least), though the Bushley librarium, as far
as she knew, did not possess moveable
shelves (called trolleys) an intriguing
idea which she thought she would take up
with Mr Henry when the curator next
invited them into his study.
Things did not improve on the next shelf
along. Here she found a whole collection
of books that appeared to be just about the
use of words. Dictionaries, they were
called. They varied in thickness and
density of writing, but all had one thing in
common. The entries, in bold type, were
in perfect alph order. She tingled with

envy to see such a thing and felt inspired

to rush back to her work right away. A
slight groan from Davids lips reminded
her that her duty this day was to him.
She slid the dictionary back onto its
shelf. Fascinating as David would
undoubtably find it, it didnt lend itself to
fluid reading. She glanced across the
room. On the shelves opposite were
several rows of books with jazzy spines.
She yanked one out. It was about
something called snooker.
Rosa drew her head back, as if she had
just smelled something unsavoury. She
opened the book with one finger. The
pages were old and brown and wavy.
They made a slight crackling sound as they
parted. The book fell open at a picture of
a well-dressed man with neatly-combed

hair, bending across a high green table,

pointing a long thin stick at a cluster of
coloured balls.
What on Co:pern:ica?
Another groan from David brought her
to attention. Whatever this snooker thing
was, it was going to have to do. She
plonked herself down on the bed beside
the boy. His eyelids were flickering, but
firmly closed. Rosa gulped and re-opened
the book, somewhere in the middle, at a
section called Tech:nique.
The striking of the cue ball, she
read aloud, is what determines good
positional play. It is not just a question
of studying angles. Knowing where to hit
the white, and with what degree of
pressure or follow-through, is what
separates the professional player from

the amateur.
That was as far as her reading got. She
was about to close the book and look for
something a little less dreary, when she
glanced down and noticed the daisy chain
was missing from Davids wrist. She
gasped and jumped up. He must have lost
it outside, during the attack. Anxious not to
leave him, she headed for the window,
hoping she could lean out and spot it. She
was just a few paces from the light when
there came a heavy fluttering of wings and
the recess was occupied by the silhouette
of a firebird.
MR HENRY! Rosa screamed for the
curator at the top of her voice. But the old
man did not come running and the firebird
by now had swooped inside to perch
squarely on the headboard, right above

Davids pillow. It was the same red bird

that had flamed the boy earlier. It stared
down at him and twisted its prominent
beak.
Get away! Rosa yelled, and hurled
the snooker book.
She missed practically by the width
of the bed but the firebird had set its
sights away from David anyway and was
already flying towards the nearest shelf of
books.
Unbalanced by her throw, Rosa lost
sight of the creature for a moment. The
clattering sound of books raining down
upon the floor quickly identified its
whereabouts. To her astonishment, the
bird was going along the uppermost
shelves, clawing the contents off them as
if it intended to destroy the whole

collection. It was certainly disrupting the

order Mr Henry had so fondly created.
Rosa leapt to her feet and stormed across
the floor, balling her fists, her boot laces
trailing.
What are you doing? she screamed.
Whats wrong with you? Stop it! Stop it!
You horrible thing. What have we done to
deserve this?
Then, the most extraordinary thing
happened. The firebird did stop throwing
down the books and hovered by one in
particular. A glowing white light emerged
from its eyes and strobed the spine for a
couple of moments. Then it stretched its
hooked claws forward and appeared to
select the book from the shelf. It flew back
with it towards the bed and dropped it,
with reasonable care, on Davids chest.

Rrrh, it went. Grumpy, but mildly

apologetic. It tapped the book twice with
its beak, then flew for the window and
was gone.
Rosa stumbled across the floor. Her
thoughts, like her hair, were in total
disarray. She lifted the book off Davids
chest. On its cover was a picture of a
flaming firebird, though it looked like no
variant of one shed ever seen. Fearsome.
Wild-eyed. Terrifying. And scaly. Her
auma struggled to cope with the image.
She switched her gaze to the titling instead
and read the three words across the top of
the cover, Creatures of Mythology . The
one word across the bottom she spoke
aloud. It was unfamiliar to her and the
pronunciation, she would later come to
learn, was incorrect: Drargones, she

breathed.
Dragons.

13
Just seven days after her dramatic visit to
the Merrimans home, Aunt Gwyneth
returned to take Eliza away. Seven days
was the standard time allotted for couples
to resolve their commingled auma in the
knowledge of an enforced separation.
Even so, when the moment came, Harlan
struggled to physically let go of his wife
and had to be admonished again by the
Aunt. Such outrageous displays of
emotion, she snapped, would see him
condemned to a counsellor as well. He
would then be on file. And what would
that do for his future with Eliza?
How
exasperating,
Bernard
Brotherton said, when Harlan told the

tech:nician about it the next morning. To

be chosen as an Aunt is a great honour, but
the timing is dreadful for both of you.
How long will she be away?
Who can say? said Harlan, looking
distant, looking lost. Some aspirants were
taken for three or four months; some for as
long as Co:pern:ica took to complete a
full spin. He sighed and smoothed his
fingers round the contours of his face.
Any progress on Project 42?
Bernard swung round and faced his
com:puter. Well, there the news will be
more to your liking. Its been a challenge,
but I have achieved a breakthrough. Those
co:ordinates you gave me are like nothing
Ive ever seen before. I had to recalibrate
SETH to accept them. You were right,
they do describe a time horizon, but its a

far more complex event than the shimmer

we saw on the film. Macro 42, he said to
the machine. The com:puter quickly
uploaded a series of routines, then paused,
awaiting further input. Bernards fingers
hovered over the neural control pad. I
ordered SETH to run a simulation of the
rift that appeared during Davids sleep,
based on the data sets from Strmbergs
recording. The results are quite
impressive. Ive slowed the sim down
substantially to give you an impression of
its physical composition. He tapped the
pad. The com:puter screen quickly drew a
vertical rip, which appeared to be made
up of a limitless number of helical strands,
orbiting around a common core.
Harlan sat forward, his steepled fingers
pressed up against his mouth. Excellent,

he muttered. Did you do the 3D?

Mmm. Bernards fingers flowed
across the pad. The screen responded by
turning the simulation on its end. At first
the two scientists seemed to be looking at
a solid hexagonal structure. But as
Bernard zoomed in, the screen became
filled with a series of fuzzy dots,
indicating there were spaces between the
individual strands.
Harlan put on a pair of spex. Whats
the resolution of this?
Sub-atomic. Notice anything?
Harlan studied the image and shrugged.
The strands are shimmering, but theres
bound to be a high degree of
electro:magnetic force between them.
Oh, its far better than that, said
Bernard. Watch what happens if I apply a

single colour to a small group of strands.

His hands moved over the pad again. He
paused the simulation and pointed to a
region of red dots at the top left of the
structure. This is a still, of course. But
look at the red in active mode. He ran the
program again. Instead of staying where
they were, the red dots began to flash in
different areas of the rift.
Harlan Merriman breathed in sharply.
Thought that would excite you,
Bernard said. The sim always maintains
its structure. But when you run a fine trace
on the strand trajectories you discover that
individual strands are popping in and out
at light speed but they never come back
in the same locations. Theyre moving,
Prof. Swapping places. What youre
looking at there is not one rip

But an infinite number of possible

rips, Harlan said quietly.
Bernard nodded. Ive revised my
previous opinion, by the way. Even if
David is ec:centric, I dont believe that
anyone on Co:pern:ica could imagineer
something of this complexity.
Then what does that say about the
firebirds? How could they possibly be
involved in this?
Bernard parted his hands. How are
they able to pass through our constructs?
How did they evolve on Co:pern:ica in
the first place? Where do the feathery
little wotsits go at night? I dont know.
Lets stick with the phys:ics for now. Do
you want to see the really spooky bit?
Harlan switched his gaze sideways. The
tech:nician was chewing his lip. Heres a

full-colour sim from the normal view.

Without waiting for permission, he
uploaded another series of routines.
Immediately, the rift was fizzing with
energy, almost sparkling around its
perimeter and tips. Every third sec or so,
as if a small current had been passed
along its length, a changing gradient of
colour rolled from top to bottom, then
bounced back again.
Its beautiful, Harlan said. Can we
go into it?
Bernard nodded again. Its fractal, but
it doesnt obey any of the known systems
or processes. Watch what happens if I
push into the core. Using the pad, he sent
a small cursor into the pattern. The rift
responded as if it had been punched.
There was a blooming of colour in all

directions. And yet, wherever the cursor

was moved to, there remained an image of
the rift.
Harlan Merriman opened his mouth and
out came one small word, Wow.
It self-replicates, Bernard said. In
any number of simultaneous dimensions.
And the spooky bit?
Bernard swallowed hard. Although the
spatial possibilities are infinite, the time
point, wherever you set the cursor, is
fixed. In other words, what turned up in
Davids dream was not a little ripple in
the envelope of space. More like
A portal, Harlan said, pushing back
his chair. So if you or I or David had
stepped into that rift, we would not have
travelled through time, wed have passed
into a different dimension, but in the same

time frame as the one wed left behind.

Thats how I read it, Bernard said, a
little shakily. But the portal, by its nature,
must operate both ways. So given Davids
reaction in the film, one can only conclude
that whatever created that rift was looking
for him not the other way round. It
sounds ridiculous, but based on the
evidence we have, it would appear that
something was trying to contact your son.
Something from another world.

14
The taxicar that came to take Eliza
Merriman and Aunt Gwyneth away was
like none that Eliza had ever seen before.
It was roughly the same size and elliptical
shape as the standard carriages, but its
outer skin was grimy and badly dented (in
several places), as if it had been involved
in a number of collisions. Aunt Gwyneth
assured her new charge there was no need
for concern, but did add that the journey
might be a little bumpy.
Where exactly are we going? Eliza
commingled.
Back to the beginning, the Aunt replied
cryptically. Back to the beginning.
Bumpy the journey certainly was.

Chilly. Tedious. Miserably long. The

cabin light flickered all the way. And the
seal nearest to Elizas head whistled as
though it would split at any moment and
suck her into some awful void. The chair
she was riding on wobbled persistently.
And the whole taxicar would frequently
drop through the sky so fast that the organs
of the body felt as if theyd been pinned to
the roof.
Aunt Gwyneth slept through it all.
Finally, the thing did come to a halt.
Even then, the doors refused to open. A
well-aimed kick from Aunt Gwyneths
sturdy heels soon remedied that. A slab of
air came in as the Aunt stepped out.
Dampness. Coarse soil. Ferocity in the
wind. All of these conditions registered
with Eliza before she had put a foot

outside. But nothing could prepare her for

the wilderness she was about to
encounter. Aunt Gwyneth snapped her
fingers and the taxicar zipped away. It
was a dot on the horizon before Eliza
could measure the extent of the isolation
the two women now found themselves in.
All around them was nothing but barren
land. Grassed and dark green, going to
black. In the sky were thunderclouds and
every threat of cold. Hope perished in
Elizas heart.
Where are we? she shuddered.
You know where we are.
The Dead Lands. Eliza shook her head
in confusion. Why have you brought me
here?
To learn, my dear.
Eliza clamped her arms and looked all

around her. What could anyone learn in a

place like this? She shivered and tried to
imagineer a sweater. There was no
response.
Once, there was a civilisation in these
lands. Buildings. Rivers. Trees
Creatures. All dead, because of what we
became.
Eliza wasnt listening. Whats wrong
with my fain? Her failure to produce a
sweater had now been compounded by her
failure to imagineer a pair of gloves. She
cupped her hands and tried to construct a
button: the first thing any child on
Co:pern:ica was taught. Even this most
simple of acts was beyond her.
The Aunt turned and gripped her
powerfully by the wrists. Your fain is
useless here. What would you do if I told

you you could never imagineer again?

That you were here to plant a seed? To
give something back?
The wind blew through Elizas hair,
holding up its strands like precious red
jewels. Take me home, she said, shaken
by the look in the old womans eyes.
Some kind of madness had enveloped the
Aunt, underpinned by a look of angry
desolation.
Thi s is your home, Aunt Gwyneth
sneered. Its where you came from. Its
where the very soul of this world resides.
Here. Still clinging to this dying earth.
She dug in a heel and twisted it hard,
churning up a divot of squelching mud.
This is what you will learn, Eliza
Merriman. This is what you will take back
to your pod and your precious gardenaria.

When you appreciate the truth about this

land, I will grant you a daughter.
Youre making me uncomfortable,
Eliza said. The Aunts grip was actually
causing her pain.
The old woman relented and let her go.
Do you know how old I am?
No. Does it matter?
Aunt Gwyneth gave a quiet snort. I
have seen things you would not believe.
Yes, I imagine you have, said Eliza.
And Im sorry that my ignorance of the
Dead Lands offends you. But Im willing
to accept whatever knowledge you can
offer me. Especially if it means I can make
Harlan happy. A daughter is something
hes always wanted. She folded her arms
and waited.
Aunt Gwyneth circled her slowly. Tell

me about your parents.

My? Eliza was suddenly thrown by
this. Iwhy?
Its not for you to question. Answer
me, girl.
I cant. II dont remember my
parents.
You do, Aunt Gwyneth said from
behind her.
Eliza turned her face to the sky. The
clouds, she thought, were moving towards
her, as if they were eager to hear her
story. I dont. I have no memories of
childhood. Im an abandoned construct. I
remember nothing before my twenty-eighth
spin. When I met Harlan I was an empty
shell. He took me in, loved me, married
me without question. I have no idea who
imagineered me, or why so old, or why

they orphaned me. Why are you making me

say what Im sure you already know? Why
are you making me
Suffer? said the Aunt.
Eliza looked away.
You need to reach inside yourself. To
do that, you must feel.
Feel? Elizas pretty face screwed
into a ball. You know very well that the
Higher put an end to all that
Soul-searching? The Aunt examined
her fingernails, as if they were suddenly
the answer to everything. That was what
people called it in the past. The inner
search for meaning. Youve tried it,
havent you, Eliza? You question your
parentage constantly, tormenting yourself
because you cannot resolve it. But you
dont have the courage to examine the

doubts. Question the doubts, child. Only

then will you be able to deal with the
truth.
What are you doing? Eliza said. The
Aunt had spread her fingers and was
pointing them, root like, at the ground.
Wisps were beginning to rise around her
feet, emerging from the soil like coils of
smoke. Eliza gasped as two of them
twined together and formed themselves
into the shape of an animal. Long floppy
ears and a rounded body. Roughly the size
of Boon, but not a katt. Her eyes darted to
another wisp. A tiny buzzing creature was
flying round an even wispier flower. And
then
The next apparition stopped her rigid.
She knew what it was. She even had a
name for it. The word was in her head as

if it had been there all her life, simply

stored away for safe keeping. She stepped
forward for a closer look, but the ghostly
contours shook their wedge of tail feathers
and waddled off before dispersing again.
Duck. It was a duck. The very creature
shed fantasised about but never seen on
the river. She sank to her knees, feeling
the softness of the earth where it
supported her. Slowly, she put her hands
into the mist, trying to gather the threads of
it in. But it was the mist that soon had
control of her. It wrapped itself round her
arms and tried to pull her down. The force
of it made her cry out, but with one snap
of Aunt Gwyneths fingers the mist
retracted into the soil. Eliza looked up to
see the Aunt looking down. In what
appeared to be an act of genuine kindness,

the woman laid a hand on Elizas forehead

and moved a lock of red hair out of her
eyes.
You did have a childhood, she said.
Eliza by now
was
shaking
uncontrollably. How? How do you know
this?
Aunt Gwyneth hunkered down. The
centres of her eyes were a stunning violet
colour. I know, because you spent it with
me.

15
Teeth gritted, Eliza struggled to her feet.
No, she said, crossing her hands several
times. Why are you mocking me like this?
If Id met you before, I would have
recognised you. And this mist. These
forms. Are they some kind ofadvanced
imagineering? Some trickery to measure
my worthiness for motherhood? If Im
flawed beyond redemption, please just tell
me.
Aunt Gwyneth straightened her skirt as
she rose. In the days before we had fain,
she said, bringing her fingertips together,
people would have used the word
magick to describe what you just saw.
Are you familiar with this term?

No, Eliza said abruptly.

The Aunt gave a supercilious sniff.
Magick was an art form used by
charlatans skilled in deception to make the
impossible appear to be plausible. It was
considered entertaining by some.
Nowadays, we have no need for such
amateurism. We simply materialise
whatever we require. But oh, the price we
have paid for it.
Elizas head swept back and forth. I
dont understand what youre talking
about.
You recognised a rabbit, a bumble bee
and a duck. Tell me if these names mean
anything to you?
Eliza sighed and covered her eyes. The
smell of damp earth was on her hands.
Duck, she muttered. Ive found myself

trying to picture them.

Aunt Gwyneth nodded. Good. In time,
you will recognise more. These creatures
were not my constructs, Eliza. They were
your memories, given limited reality by
your residual association with this place.
Aunt, Ive never been here before!
And this place just tried to kill me!
No, girl. It was trying to reclaim you.
Oh! Eliza threw up her hands. Her
eyes were almost as dark as the clouds.
She turned and stared intently at the
horizon. Are you saying I spent a
childhood here?
Yes.
Then why dont I remember it?
Because you were not meant to. It was
erased days before your fifth spin. You
were then re-formed by the Higher to

become the woman that Harlan Merriman

would marry.
Are you implying that Harlan and I
were deliberately brought together by the
Higher?
That is immaterial.
Not to me. There was an uneasy
pause. When it became clear that the Aunt
would not be drawn further on this matter,
Eliza said, Very well. I was re-formed.
For what reason? Was I ec:centric, like
David?
Again, Aunt Gwyneth chose to hold her
tongue.
Tell me, Eliza insisted, having the
courage to shake the old woman. Did I
do something wrong? Did I threaten the
Design?
Yes. Aunt Gwyneths voice was

brittle. Yes, but through no fault of your

own. You were given up to the Higher
when it became clear that youd
inheritedyour fathers anomaly.
Eliza reared back. This is not from one
of your reports, is it? You knew him,
didnt you? You knew my father. Her
gaze narrowed. The Aunts face was as
rigid as stone.
He was an out:kast, she said
eventually. The very worst kind of
ec:centric.
Why dont I know him? Eliza
pressed. What became of him? Is he still
alive? She thought of David, in the
librarium. In her fathers time (and just
how old would her father have been?) the
Counsellors and Aunts might not have
been so generous as to send a potentially

dangerous individual to a place of relative

safety.
But just as Aunt Gwyneth was about to
give an answer she flicked her head to one
side and said, I am being summoned.
Her sober expression faded to a glint of
amused curiosity. Well, well. How
interesting.
Eliza could hear nothing of the Aunts
communication, and with her fain disabled
could detect no thoughts in the ether,
either. Were leaving? she said, looking
for a taxicar. None was coming.
I am leaving, Aunt Gwyneth said,
brushing down the sleeves of her jacket.
It seems Im required by Thorren
Strmberg.
Strmberg? Eliza stepped forward
again. Is it to do with David? Is there

something wrong?
Aunt Gwyneth pulled on a pair of white
gloves. There appeared to be elec:trodes
running down the finger seams. On the
palms was a strange-looking mark, made
up of three ragged but unconnected lines.
What you will discover here will shape
your future. Go carefully, Eliza. It may be
some time before I return.
Wait. You cant abandon me! Where
will I sleep? What will I eat? You havent
explained about my father. And what
about my training? And the daughter you
promised?
An Aunt, the agent of the Higher cut
in, must learn to cope with any adversity.
Your training starts here. Alone, in the
Dead Lands. And right before Elizas
eyes, Aunt Gwyneth spread her arms and

the mist rose up once more and

surrounded her. Blue flashes lit up her
gloves and she was drawn away swiftly,
as if she was nothing but a feather on the
wind.
For twenty paces, Eliza gave chase.
Failing breath and the loss of a shoe
finally brought her stomping to a halt. She
hung her head as the solitude closed in,
then limped back and retrieved the shoe. It
was soaked and reeked of something
unwholesome. With a hostility she barely
knew she possessed she set herself to hurl
it far away and go barefoot across the
grass. (Where to, though? Where?) But
before the rage had her in its sway,
something else had conquered her auma.
She paused and looked at the dirt on the
shoe. Smoky wisps were rising out of it

again. With her free hand, she scraped

some mud off the sole and rolled it
through the ends of her fingers. Strangely,
it did not smear. And the more she rolled,
the more permanent and workable the stuff
became, until she had a ball of it on her
palm. It sat there, grey and shiny and
smooth. It was then she recalled a name
for it.
Clay.

16
Voices. Mr Henry and someone new.
Rosa pushed the dragon book under her
arm, blew a kiss to David and hurried
from the room. She paused just inside the
doorway of the next and hid herself there,
to listen.
Good grief, she heard Mr Henry
splutter. He had stumbled against the mess
of books. And though the cause of it was
no real fault of hers, Rosa felt a mild rush
of guilt, nevertheless.
This is unusual? the visitor asked.
There was a jocular note in his smooth,
deep voice. A kind voice. Maybe with a
tribal twang. Rosa liked it, and thought she
might like the man, too, but she wasnt

going to show her face just yet.

This is one of my rooms, Mr Henry
muttered, his manner implying that they
were always tidy. I dont quite
understand whats happened. I left Rosa
here, looking after David. I asked her to
read to him, not trash the place.
Now Rosa couldnt resist a look.
Poking her face round the edge of the door
frame, she caught sight of the visitor. A
tall man with stunning fair hair. He was
looking at the upper shelves. Do you
have a ladder to reach those?
Mr Henry nodded. Yes, but its
hidden. To Rosas astonishment, he
struck a small square on a tall dividing
panel between the shelves and it turned on
itself to reveal a ladder.
Perhaps she found it? the stranger

suggested.
Mr Henry shook his head. Shes been
here for nine spins and has never worked
it out.
Then maybe she had help?
Rosa craned her neck a little further
round the door. She gulped when she saw
that the visitor had crouched down and
picked up a bright red firebird feather. He
twiddled it in his fingers. Is this from the
one that attacked David?
Mr Henry looked on, concerned. Yes,
it could be. Id better go and search for
her, Thorren. If it was here shes probably
run from it, fearing it would injure her.
No, wait. The visitor pressed his
hand to the floor, almost making the
wooden boards creak. If she was hurt,
the building would surely know it. I cant

detect anything.
Could they have taken her, then? The
birds?
Thorren drummed his fingers. No, the
girl left of her own accord. I think shes
gone in search of something.
Rosa gulped again as she saw Mr
Henry stoop down and run his gaze across
the fallen books. How long would it be,
she wondered, before he discovered the
one that was missing? She withdrew the
dragon book and glanced at its cover. Did
she really want to read a book so
sinister? Wouldnt it be easier to give
herself up? Tell them what had happened?
Let Mr Henry and this visitor take charge?
She balled a fist. No. She must be brave.
This was between her and David and the
firebirds. Whatever mysteries this book

contained were going to be theirs to

unravel.
Hearing footsteps again, she prepared
to run. But the sound was falling away and
she realised that the visitor had simply
crossed the floor to go to look at David.
Ive summoned an Aunt, he said.
Mr Henry took a sharp breath.
I know you dont like them, Charles

They have a blatant disregard for my

work, the curator grumbled.
but Im required by law to bring one
in. He may have injuries we cant detect.
If so, only an Aunt can aid him. Have you
noticed any recurrence of his dreams?
Dreams? Rosa clutched the dragon
book to her.
Hes been calm, said Mr Henry. An

absolute model of efficiency and

goodness. Hes adapted to the building as
if he was born here.
And his fain?
Havent seen him use it. Hes
competitive with the girl, but never
reaches for his fain to better himself. He
and the girl are very close, by the way.
Rosa heard the other man suppress a
quiet chuckle. And how far has he got
with the books?
Mr Henry drew another breath, but this
one was longer and more considered.
Hes reached 42. But they all do that.
You really think he can break through to
the upper floors?
Thorren Strmberg took a moment to
reply. Theres something odd about this
boy that Ive not come across in other

ec:centrics; his ongoing relationship with

the firebirds, for one thing. And the range
and power of his fain is extraordinary.
Then theres the time rift, of course.
Time rift? Rosa mouthed.
Any progress with that? Mr Henry
asked.
Once again Strmberg paused before
replying. His father fed the co:ordinates I
gave him into a specialised com:puter
programme. It predicted a multidimensional portal.
What kind of portal? Where to? said
Mr Henry. (Rosa by now was biting down
on her knuckles to keep herself quiet.)
Anywhere, Charles. Thats the point.
Think of a revolving door that can turn
faster than the speed of light and deliver
you into an infinite number of places.

Thats what appeared during Davids

dream and thats what the firebirds came
to shut down. What the experiment doesnt
definitively show is whether David
created the rift himself or whether it came
via some external source. But in answer to
your previous question: Yes, Im
confident that David possesses the ability
to find a way into the upper floors, but we
may yet solve the mystery ourselves if he
doesnt.
By now, Rosas heart was thumping so
loudly that she had begun to back away
from the door, lest either man should hear
the pounding. But she did not want to
leave until shed heard Thorren Strmberg
complete his statement. Mr Henry was the
first to speak.
The curator said, Surely youre not

thinking about using the portal?

Its a gem too sweet to resist,
Thorren answered. The boys father
believes he can replicate it in his
laboratory, under controlled conditions.
And you think it might take you to the
roof of the librarium?
Well beyond that, Charles.
But the danger must be immense? Who
would dare to go through a thing like
that?
That has yet to be decided, Strmberg
said.
But in Rosas mind, he was shading the
truth. Hed send David through the portal.
She was sure of it. David would be made
to face the danger. At that point, she
picked up her skirt tails and ran. She said,
with profound intent to the librarium, Take

me to where I cant be found, so I can

read this book quickly from cover to
cover. She was sure that the dragon book
would tell her something why else
would the firebird have singled it out?
Through room after room after room she
flashed, her mind buzzing repeatedly with
everything shed heard. Dreams. Portals.
Upper floors. David. Dreams. Portals.
Upper floors
Ow!
With a thump, she came to a sudden halt
and staggered back, rubbing the tip of her
nose. Her toes hurt, too. And one knee.
She couldnt believe it. She had run into
something! A mistake she hadnt made
since her very first day in the librarium.
But when she looked up to see what the
obstacle was, she realised it wasnt a

mistake at all. She was at the end of a

darkened corridor. In front of her was a
closed wooden door.
It looked old and quite impenetrable.
(How on Co:pern:ica had she not found
this before?) And although it wasnt
labelled, Rosa knew in her heart that this
was the entrance to Floor 43. She
squeezed her hand around the hexagonal
door knob. It was made of burnished metal
and coated with dust. She took a deep
breath and gave the knob a twist. It
responded with a weary degree of
resistance, but only went a quarter turn
then stopped. Breath held, she pushed her
weight forward. The door did not open.
Please, she said, pressing her
shoulder against it. Thump. Thump. Still it
would not budge. Reaching up, she banged

it with the palm of her hand. Please, she

begged it, youve got to let me in.
And as she spoke those words, a
powerful hand came to cover hers. Rosa
screamed and jumped around. A dark
silhouette stood in front of her. Not Mr
Henry. Nor the visitor, Strmberg. A
woman, fierce and frightful.
An Aunt.

17
Well, well. What have we here? the
woman said.
Who are you? What do you want?
Rosa snapped. She pulled the dragon book
flat to her body and folded both her arms
across it.
Impertinent whelp. I could have you
de:constructed for an outburst like that.
Rosa smirked and tried to push past her,
saying, Like to see you try.
The Aunt stopped her and threw her
back against the door with a force that
belied her wiry frame. Without a hint of
warning she reached out and pinched
Rosas earlobe, forcing a fingernail into
the flesh.

Agh! the girl cried, and slewed away

in pain.
So, youre human, drawled the Aunt,
rubbing blood off her fingertips.
Whats it to you?
I am an AUNT! the woman roared.
And you will obey me or face the
consequences. I could order your
re:moval from this cosy existence in the
time it would take to wipe my fingers
clean. She grabbed Rosas chin and
turned the girl to face her. The black
centres of her eyes drilled into Rosas
soul. You are that most pathetic of
objects: a natural-born child with limited
fain. Rosa gasped as she felt the Aunts
thoughtwaves probing her. You are the
progeny of misguided parents who wanted
to believe that it was right to take a

retrograde step from the Grand Design.

Let me guessthey abandoned you here
when they realised it was too much for
them to bear, seeing their cute little human
project unable to cope with children far
more talented. And when you wanted what
you could not imagineer you became
temperamental and a burden to them.
She squeezed Rosas cheeks, making the
child wince. And this, she continued,
pressing her thumb against the tear rolling
down Rosas face, would have been the
pinnacle of their embarrassment. She
leaned forward until their noses were
almost touching. Believe me, child,
re:gressives like you are not wanted
outside institutions like this. So if you
wish to stay here, you will do my bidding.
My name is Aunt Gwyneth. Now, show

me the respect I deserve.

With that, she let Rosa go.
The girl sniffed and wiped her nose on
her sleeve. Im sorry.
Im sorry, what?
Im sorry, Aunt Gwyneth. And Rosa
bowed politely as she was expected to do.
The Aunt cast her gaze down. What is
that youre hiding?
Just a book.
Let me see it. Aunt Gwyneth snatched
it up. Immediately, her breath was like
shattered glass. Where did you get this?
Rosa spread her arms. Here, she
said, sounding credibly innocent. I found
it downstairs. She didnt want to tell the
story behind it, and withholding the truth
from an Aunt was dangerous, but the way
the old woman had reacted to the cover

had ignited a deep curiosity in Rosa and a

strange desire to protect the book. So she
took a chance and asked, What is a
drargone, Aunt?
Dragon, said Aunt Gwyneth, paging
slowly. The correct pronunciation is
dragon.
Rosa nodded, taking this in. Why do
they look like fi?
They are a myth, said the Aunt,
snapping the book shut. They do not
exist. They are a wicked invention, and
even you, a wretched excuse for a girl,
will not sully her auma with such
perversity.
No, Aunt. Sorry. A wicked
invention? Limited though it might be,
Rosas fain flared. Have you come to see
David?

Yes. What is beyond this door? The

old womans cruel eyes (yes, thought
Rosa, definitely cruel) were scanning the
obstruction.
Rosa did her best to shrug the question
off. Ill take you to him. I know the
quickest routes.
I know how to find him. Once again,
Aunt Gwyneth prevented her escape.
Then, erm, what are you doing on this
floor, with me?
I detected a powerful auma surge and
the building drew me here.
Thanks, Rosa said beneath her breath to
the walls.
With an ill-mannered tug, the Aunt
bundled her out of the way. She too tried
the handle. Once again the door failed to
open. Where is the key to this?

I dont know, Rosa said. There isnt

a lock.
There is always a lock, Aunt
Gwyneth rumbled. I ask you again, what
is beyond this door?
Rosa sighed and tossed her hair. The
upper floors where the firebirds nest.
This made the Aunt suck in as if
someone had pulled a string to her lungs.
What were you doing here?
Trying to get in, Rosa said truthfully,
then compounded it with a lie. I come
here every day, but the door is never
open. She chewed her lip and glanced at
the dragon book. Shall I put that back
where it belongs? She held out a hopeful
hand.
Aunt Gwyneth filled it with shattered
dreams. You are never to touch this book

again. Now, walk in front of me, where I

can watch you. Its time to find the boy.
Not surprisingly, it took a lot less time for
Aunt Gwyneth to find David than it had for
Rosa to find the locked door. Mr Henry
and Thorren Strmberg both bowed to the
Aunt as she glided in.
A rough hand between the shoulder
blades propelled Rosa forward, almost
making her trip on the books still strewn
across the floor. I found this, loitering
upstairs.
Rosa thought she saw the blonde-haired
visitor smile.
She was in pursuit of dragons.
The old woman held the book out for
Mr Henry, but it was Thorren Strmberg
who took it from her. He touched his

fingers to the cover and said, And did

you find them, Rosa?
Rosa saw the Aunt bristle. No, sir,
she said.
The blonde man nodded. He handed the
book sideways to Mr Henry (who seemed
to examine it for damage, Rosa thought).
Strange creatures, dont you think?
Enough, the Aunt said. You would
do well to remember, Counsellor
Strmberg, that to encourage disruptive
thinking is a crime against the Grand
Design. A dangerous practice, in my
presence.
Once again, Strmberg bowed to her.
Far be it from me to challenge your
authority. By asking such a question I seek
not to encourage but merely to search for
possible flaws.

Im not flawed, Rosa piped up. I just

like books.
Be quiet, snapped the Aunt. She
moved toward David and looked down at
his face. He was still lost in (peaceful)
sleep. Books, she muttered, as if shed
just cut her finger on the edge of a page.
She cast her imperious gaze around the
shelves. I have long believed this
building could be used for something more
meaningful than harbouring antiquities.
Rosa saw Mr Henry grinding his teeth.
His face was trembling with anger. She
had never seen rage in the old man before
and it frightened (and slightly excited) her.
Thorren Strmberg came to the curators
aid. Putting out a comforting hand he said,
One mustnt forget, Aunt Gwyneth, that
the librarium is a recognised firebird

eyrie and therefore protected by the Grand

Design.
Eyrie. Another new word. Rosa looked
at the Aunt and saw her spine stiffen. So,
the old bag hated the firebirds just as
much as the books. She was learning a lot
today.
So this is David Merriman, Aunt
Gwyneth said.
Rosa
raised
her
eyebrows.
Merriman? she hooted. What kind of a
name was that?
Get rid of that irritating child, said
the Aunt, batting a stiff hand back through
the air.
No way, Rosa hissed. Im not
leaving David.
Aunt Gwyneth whipped around. I will
cut you into slices and press you between

the pages of your books if you do not get

out of this room, girl.
Perhaps,
Thorren
Strmberg
interceded, it would be better if Rosa
stayed. She was nearest to David when the
firebird attacked. She might have
information that will help your diagnosis.
Aunt Gwyneths nostrils flared.
Strmberg took this as a positive sign.
Rosa, you will be quiet until one of us
asks you to speak. Or you will be sent out.
Is that understood?
Yes, sir, she muttered.
The counsellor gave her the faintest of
nods, then turned back to the Aunt. Yes,
this is David. I called for you because I
know youve had contact with his parents.
It seemed sensible to keep some kind of
continuity.

A wise choice in any circumstance,

Aunt Gwyneth said, with such an air of
superiority that Rosa wanted to gag.
Now, what happened to the boy?
He was flamed by a firebird, yet
appears to have suffered no external
injuries. A strange flash was observed at
the point of the attack. Mr Henry believes
that something either deflected or
absorbed the birds fire. Whatever the
cause, we fear it may have left the boy
blind.
Aunt Gwyneth took this in and studied
the patient carefully. She reached inside
the jacket of her suit and drew out a small
instrument. It looked to Rosa like that odd
thing, a pen. (Mr Henry kept a few in a
display case in his study.) Certainly, when
the Aunt touched her thumb to one end,

something sharp like a nib extruded from

the other. Leaning forward, Rosa saw it
was a tip of green light. It began to buzz at
increasingly higher frequencies as Aunt
Gwyneth brought it closer to Davids
head. She inserted it into his ear. Right
away, his physical features disappeared
and all that could be seen was a halo of
light in the shape of a boy.
Is that? Rosa mouthed, and was
fortunately seen by Strmberg, who said,
This is a sight that never ceases to amaze
me. Auma, in its purest state.
Be silent, said Aunt Gwyneth. Let
me do my work. And to Rosas horror,
the old woman plunged her hands into
Davids auma, sweeping them around as if
she was searching for a prize in a lucky
dip.

Although she knew nothing of this

diagnostic process (a high form of
commingling, she would later come to
learn), Rosa was relieved to see great
waves of violet sweeping Davids auma
wherever the Aunts black and white,
bony hands travelled. Violet, children of
Co:pern:ica were taught, was the colour
of truth. Only one area of Davids body
did not resolve itself in that shade, and
that was the deep, deep blue of his heart.
Aunt Gwyneth hovered here for the
longest time, her fingers moving like strips
of paper in the blades of a fan. When she
finally withdrew, Rosa kept her worried
gaze fixed on the heart. She watched it
pulsing right up to the point where the
Aunt removed the probe from Davids ear
and his body reappeared on the bed as

before.
He is physically perfect, the Aunt
reported, as good as the day he was
constructed. He isnt blind but he is
seeing things.
Dreaming? Strmberg asked.
Deeply.
Is he calm?
The Aunt nodded. He is in a recurring
alpha wave.
A twitch of relief pulled at Strmbergs
mouth. Do you know when he might
wake?
Aunt Gwyneth shook her head. He is in
an unusual form of stasis, brought on by a
strong melancholia.
What does that mean? Rosa couldnt
help herself. Bravely, she stepped
forward and picked up Davids hand.

It means hes sad, said Mr Henry,

stepping forward too. He moved his jaw
from side to side, the way he sometimes
did when he was musing in his study. He
was trying to save a firebird when he was
attacked. It fell a great distance. It was
probably dead. He would have been
moved by that.
His fain is not resolving it, Aunt
Gwyneth said.
So mend him, said Rosa.
I just tried, said the Aunt, with steel
in her voice. Her eyes scanned Davids
body again. The boy is ec:centric and
emotionally flawed. He is beyond the help
of an Aunt. His situation must be reported
to the Higher.
And your recommendation would be?
said Strmberg.

Aunt Gwyneth raised

De:construction, she said.

her

chin.

18
NO! screamed Rosa, looking at the
faces of all three adults. You cant do
that. I wont let you hurt him.
Get this child out of my sight, said
Aunt Gwyneth, with such a degree of
vehemence that a shower of spittle
sprayed across Rosas dress.
Rosa, come with me. Mr Henry
gripped her arm.
No, she cried again, freeing herself.
How can you stand there and let her say
this?
Rosanna, go to a rest room. Now.
The girl planted her feet. Im not
leaving David.
Then thunder rose in Mr Henrys chest

and blood boiled in the veins of his face.

GO! he bellowed, clenching his fists
not to strike her, Rosa was sure about that,
but simply to try to get a grasp on his
emotions. Shed never seen him so
expressly disturbed. (And hed never used
her name in full before.) Nevertheless, she
stared at him in utter betrayal. He calmed
himself and spoke in a gentler tone, as if
asking her to pardon this dreadful
outburst. But by then the hurt could be
seen in her eyes. She shook her hair
wildly and ran from the room.
Charles Henry dragged a handkerchief
out of his pocket and wiped it across his
gibbering mouth. Whatevers to be done,
do it quickly, he said. I want no part of
it.
Nothing is to be done, said

Strmberg.
Aunt Gwyneth turned on him at once.
You would defy my ruling?
Strmberg picked up a book and put it
back onto a shelf (in no particular place).
No, Aunt. I support your ruling; this
incident must be reported to the Higher.
But as Davids approved counsellor I will
be expected to submit an assessment of his
case, and my recommendation would be
that he is kept in the librarium and
watched.
Aunt Gwyneth snorted her displeasure.
For what reason?
Until this day, no one in the history of
Co:pern:ica has ever been rendered
melancholic by a firebird. I find that
intriguing. I believe the Higher will, too.
They will want me to study the boy.

Poppycock, the old woman sneered.

(Mr Henry raised an eyebrow at the use of
this word and found his glance drawn
towards his dictionary shelf.)
Unfazed, Strmberg put his hands into
his pockets and idly continued to stare at
the books. Then, of course, there is your
professional reputation to consider.
What? said the Aunt. A tiny sprig of
hair jumped out of her bun.
I understand from Harlan Merriman
that youve accepted the boys mother for
training?
What has that got to do with it?
Strmberg turned to face her. Would it
not be considered odd anomalous, even
that an aspirant, chosen by you, had
recently had a child de:constructed?
Hardly the ideal qualification for

Aunthood.
Aunt Gwyneth took a step forward. She
seemed to grow in height as she sought to
meet Thorren Strmbergs eye. You are
treading a dangerous line, Counsellor. Do
not think to interfere with my business.
Its my business to advise people,
Strmberg said frankly. In my opinion,
the facts are very plain. Its up to you what
you do with them, Aunt.
Her gaze slanted sideways to David.
The boy might never wake up.
Then what threat can he be?
Aunt Gwyneth breathed in deeply.
Very well, she said, waving a hand.
You may keep your therapy intact. But I
will be back to see this boy again. If his
melancholia worsens or his terrors return,
that will be an end to it. And with one

more skewed look at David Merriman,

she strode out of the room, kicking a book
across the floor as she departed.
Mr Henry sighed with relief. Thank
you, he whispered, patting Strmbergs
arm.
We must go carefully now, Thorren
Strmberg told him. That encounter will
have prickled her spine. I may not always
find a winning argument against her.
What do you want me to do?
Exactly what I told her. You must
monitor the boy.
Do you think he will recover?
Strmberg considered the question
carefully. I hope so. I think hes got a lot
more to show us.
His parents, will they be informed of
his condition?

The mother may learn through the

Aunt, but Id rather keep it from his father,
for now. Telling him gains us nothing.
Hes already accepted that the boy is out
of bounds while in our care. I dont want
him losing focus, not with his research at
such a critical stage.
Mr Henry nodded. What about this?
He held up the dragon book.
Ill take that. I need to talk to Rosa.
Where will I find her?
Charles Henry pointed to the nearest
window. Outside, in her favourite place
the fields.
Rosa was sitting cross-legged amongst the
daisies, with her back to the librarium,
hair dancing in the breeze. She did not
take her gaze away from the horizon when

Thorren Strmberg came and crouched

beside her. Speaking quietly, he said, Im
sorry you had to go through that. Aunt
Gwyneth has gone. David is staying in the
librarium.
The girl swallowed hard and closed her
eyes. When she opened them again, the
lashes were wet. She noticed Strmberg
looking and said, I suppose you think Im
a freak, as well, dont you?
Strmberg shook his head. Very few of
my ideas coincide with Aunt Gwyneths.
Rosas face grew dark with loathing. I
hate that woman if she is a woman.
Oh yes, shes human, the counsellor
said. She would have had emotions once,
but her fain overpowered them long ago.
Shes not all bad, Rosa. Shes in the
business of producing perfect offspring for

perfect parents in a perfect world. Youre

always going to be an irritation to her
kind.
The girl picked a daisy and twiddled it
in her fingers. Will David be OK? How
could any world be perfect without him?
Im not sure, Strmberg answered
truthfully. If he stays melancholic, he will
fade away. He saw her shoulders drop
and he pressed on quickly. What
happened, Rosa in the room, before you
ran? How did you come to have this?
She looked at the dragon book in his
hands. The red firebird came. It picked it
off a shelf and dropped it on David.
To hurt him?
No. Lips tight, she shook her head. It
looked sort ofsorry for what it had
done.

So the book was a gift?

I dont know, she said.
Strmberg thought about this for a
moment. He ran his hand across the tops
of the daisies, enjoying the sensation of
their petals on his skin. Where were you
going when Aunt Gwyneth found you?
Rosa sighed and flicked her daisy
away. I thought the book might help
David, so Do you know how to get into
the upper floors?
No, he said. Youve found the door,
havent you to Floor 43?
Rosa looked away, but immediately
confessed. I was trying to get through it
when scary Aunty turned up. She said
thered be a key, but I couldnt find a
lock.
Strmberg stared at the horizon and

smiled. Nothing is straightforward in the

librarium, Rosa. You of all people should
know that. Aunt Gwyneth is correct, there
will be a key. We just dont know what it
is or where to find it. Maybe the book is
a clue.
At that moment it started to rain. A
single droplet of water landed with a splat
on the picture of the dragon. Rosa clutched
at her upper arms and shuddered.
Come inside, Strmberg said, cutting
short her next intended question. I must
leave here soon and Ive more to show
you. He stood up and offered his hand.
She looked hesitantly at it and he added,
softly, Some interesting things in other
books youve not seen.
She thought about this for a moment,
then gripped his hand and raised herself

up. He set off towards the librarium. He

was three or four paces ahead when he
realised she wasnt following. He looked
back to see her standing in the rain, her
wetted hair clinging to her pretty face.
Rosa? Have you lost something? Her
eyes were busily scanning the ground.
She shook her head. She wasnt going
to tell him, but the daisy chain bracelet
was nowhere to be found. That, in its way,
was as crushing as the thought that David
might not wake. Did the fire go inside
him? she whispered. Did David absorb
it through his tears?
Strmberg glanced at the dragon book
again. A raindrop had run beneath the
creatures eye, making it look as if it was
crying. No, he said. Aunt Gwyneth
would have found it.

Then what happened? What was the

flash I saw?
I dont know, said Strmberg. And he
wiped the rain off the cover of the book
and walked away without another word.

19
Back in the room where David lay, Mr
Henry had already begun the process of
restoring his spilled books to their proper
places. He was halfway up the oncehidden ladder when Strmberg and Rosa
came in.
Charles, Id like to show Rosa
something special about dragons. Could
you find me an appropriate text?
The curator stopped what he was doing.
His eyebrows rose to a point well above
the frame of his spex. At first, Rosa
thought he was going to refuse. But instead
he leaned sideways and the ladder slid
with his weight (and his intent). It not only
travelled three feet horizontally but up two

shelves as well.
Wow, thought Rosa. Where was that
when she and David were at their most
industrious?
Once again Mr Henry pressed a button
somewhere and what looked to be an
ordinary shelf of books revolved to
display a hidden one. On it was a large
old book, held together by some kind of
stiff brown binding that Rosa had never
come across before. Mr Henry stepped
down off the ladder with it. Blowing dust
off the cover, he said, This is the rarest
and most valuable book in the building.
He handed it to Strmberg, but his gaze
was on Rosa. I hope you know what
youre doing, Thorren.
Strmberg said, Sit down, Rosa.
With a sweep of his hand he imagineered

a table and three upright chairs.

Rosa tutted (even though she was
secretly impressed at the speed and power
of the blonde mans fain) and pulled out a
chair at the side of the table from where
she could still see David. The boy slept
on like a statue, barely breathing.
Strmberg sat down beside her but put
the old book aside temporarily. Instead, he
opened the glossy one again, back at a
picture of a roaring dragon.
What are those horrible things? Rosa
asked.
Good question, said Strmberg. No
one really knows.
Then why have we got books about
them?
Mr Henry joined them at the table. He
took off his spex and polished them on the

corner of his jacket. Thorren, are you

sure its right for her to hear this?
Thorren Strmberg merely said, Do
you know what a myth is, Rosa?
Sort of, she replied. She remembered
Aunt Gwyneth using the word just before
her chilling warning: You are never to
touch this book again. Part of her was
willing to accept the Aunts caution. The
roughness and terrifying size of the
creatures (compared to the mountainous
landscape they were pictured in) really
did frighten her. But they were strangely
compelling, too.
Its a word we use to describe a
phenomenon that has no foundation or
basis in truth, and yet is somehow strong
enough to survive in our consciousness.
Its not in mine, said Rosa, nodding at

the dragon.
Yes it is, said Strmberg. Its
merely been suppressed.
Mr Henry rubbed a hand across his
forehead and sighed.
Charles, bring me something on
Zo:ology, would you?
No, Thorren. Shes not ready for that.
Animals, Charles.
Are you insane? The old man looked
up sternly. Shell be in the boys state
before you know it. He jutted a finger at
David.
For a moment, there was stalemate.
Rosa, unsure of what to do, remained
quiet. Everything seemed to rest with Mr
Henry. Finally, the curator scraped back
his chair and again struck one of the
panels between the shelves. It opened on a

dark, cubicle-shaped cupboard. Inside the

cupboard was a small book, hardly any
bigger than a mans hand. Mr Henry
brought it over and placed it on the table.
A Comprehensive Field Guide to Small
Mammals.
Strmberg picked it up and flicked
through a few pages. They were stiff and
difficult to hold in place. He found what
he was looking for and showed it to the
girl.
A katt? she said. It looks a bit
fierce. Why are the letters wrong?
Its a wild cat, said Strmberg, and
the spelling is correct. Try this. He
flipped to another page. There was an
image of the most extraordinary little
creature Rosa had ever seen. It had fur
like a katt, but its hairs were just a series

of short grey spikes. Two slightly bulging

eyes were positioned on the sides of its
mischievous-looking face. It was sitting
upright, on the branch of a tree, balanced
by a bushy tail that curled right over its
back.
Thats a squirrel, said Strmberg.
Rosa shook her head, confused.
One more, he said, then this goes
away. And he showed her a picture of
something long and sleek on the bank of a
river. The book labelled it an otter.
Thorren, thats enough, Mr Henry
said grimly. He took the book out of
Strmbergs hands and dropped it into his
pocket.
Strmberg leaned back against his chair
and said, All the creatures in that book
existed once, Rosa, including the habitats

you saw them in.

Theyre beautiful, she said. What
happened to them?
They died out as our fain evolved.
How? Why?
Thats a mystery many people have
tried to unravel, me included. We have
physical evidence, in a place called the
Dead Lands, that squirrels, cats, otters and
thousands more species like them once
roamed Co:pern:ica. But theyre not there
now. Interestingly, there is nothing to
suggest that dragons were ever among us,
except for precious books like these. Yet I
can tell you, without exception, they are in
the auma of every child I have ever
counselled. Somehow, even though were
not aware of it, we collectively believe in
dragons and no one, not even an Aunt, can

say why.
Rosa shuddered and turned up her nose.
Are we all flawed? she asked.
Possibly, Strmberg said. But I think
theres a much more intriguing answer
still waiting to be uncovered. And this
building might be at the heart of it.
Rosa looked at Mr Henry. The old man
was holding his breath.
Strmberg pushed the dragon book
aside and opened the one from the secret
shelf. Rosa cast her gaze across the page.
All she could see was a pattern of fading
ink marks that made no sense to her. She
placed her hands in her lap and waited.
Strmberg turned another page. We are
sitting underneath the largest firebird eyrie
on Co:pern:ica, and yet we know nothing
about it. Many people learned people,

like myself and Mr Henry have

attempted to reach the upper floors to
study the birds habitat, but with little
success. Interest in the birds has gradually
dwindled. Most Co:pern:icans now accept
them as nothing more than a colourful
aspect of the Grand Design. But they dont
know about this. He ran his finger round
a corner of the binding. Do you know
who found this book, Rosa?
She shook her head.
You did.
Me? How?
It was on your first day, Mr Henry
said. You were running around like a
month old kitt-katt and hit your head on the
post at the foot of the stairs.
I remember it, she said. Its the only
time Ive done it. Well (She didnt

mention that days encounter with the door

to 43). After that you taught me how to
move with the building. So how did?
She turned her head and stared at the
secret cubicle.
Yes, said Mr Henry. You opened a
hidden compartment at the foot of the
stairs and in it wasthat.
She looked up at Strmberg.
We believe this book holds the truth,
he said. We believe that firebirds and
dragons are connected. If we can make
sense of that link, we think we will unlock
the secrets of Co:pern:ica possibly the
entire universe.
Rosa leaned forward and glanced at the
page. With a load of smudges?
Strmberg laughed politely. I agree at
first glance it does appear quite

indecipherable. But this is a book,

remember. These marks are a language.
Almost certainly an ancient language.
Long forgotten by us. Probably never used
by us.
Whos the author? Rosa asked.
Without waiting for permission she closed
the book and looked at the cover. Theres
nothing on it.
Strmberg turned it over. You read
this book from right to left.
And there, in what shed once heard Mr
Henry describe as gothic script, Rosa
saw a title. The Book of Aga,
Agawin, Thorren Strmberg said.
Agawin. Rosa repeated it to herself.
The name had an interesting chime.
Whos he?
Im hoping you and David will find

out.
She looked worriedly at the boy. His
condition hadnt changed. How?
Through your work, thats all. Through
patience, diligence and faith. I dont
believe it was coincidence that brought
you two together or that made you
discover the location of this book or that
made the firebirds point you in the
direction of dragons. I think they want
answers just as much as we do. I want you
to change your intention, Rosa. From now
on, when youre putting the books into
order, ask the librarium for something else
besides. Ask for guidance about this
author and for the means to translate this
text.
Rosa blew a short breath. No pressure ,
she thought. What language is it? Do you

know?
Strmberg bobbed his head. Well, it
only ever appears in other books about
dragons. So Charles, do you want to tell
her?
Mr Henry cleared his throat. We
believe its evidence of their existence,
Rosa. We dont know, of course, how the
creatures would describe it, but we like to
call it dragontongue.

20
At the same time that the rain had begun to
fall on Rosa outside the Bushley
Librarium, it was falling on Eliza in the
Dead Lands, too. It was the final irony,
she thought. Abandoned, lost, endangered
by memories (if Aunt Gwyneth was to be
believed), and now getting soaked as
well. The only thing that seemed to make
sense to her was the piece of clay in her
hands. As the rain came down and
droplets ran off its smooth grey surface,
Eliza let her fingers instinctively work it,
using what she needed of the rain to help
her. Slowly, an object came together in
her hands, though it seemed to possess no
useful shape. It wasnt even circular,

more What was the word shed heard

Harlan use to describe graf:ical data of
unequal distribution? Lop-sided. That was
it. The thing was lop-sided. Fatter, more
globular, at one end than the other.
Imbalanced, but somehow perfect for it.
And once shed settled on the basic shape,
it seemed right to her to want to make
dents, or pits, all over its surface, until
each pit had a smooth finish she could
only describe as She squeezed her eyes
shut. Her equilibrium rocked. Her fainfree mind was working so fast that her
head literally shook as she tried to identify
the unfamiliar images flashing through it.
All around her she could feel the Dead
Lands responding, pulling at her senses,
wanting what she knew. Her thumb passed
over the object again, re-examining its

textured surface. And suddenly it came to

her. The word she was seeking. Planished.
The surface of the object was planished.
At that moment, something began to
happen with the rain. Suddenly, it wasnt
just falling any more, but sweeping across
her from any number of different angles. It
was bulging and swirling and slapping at
her sides as if she had somehow offended
the clouds and they were bent on driving
her away from underneath them. Each
fresh eddy was accompanied by a
terrifying sizzling noise and an
unmistakeable flare of heat. The effect
was so pronounced that as the pressure of
air around her body increased it soon
became clear that it was not really water
striking Elizas arms as she raised them,
but vaporised water. Steam.

Amazingly, she felt no pain. Only

terror. As she began to look about her, not
for rabbits and ducks upon the surface of
the land, but for something large in the
howling skies, she noticed a monster
banking through the storm. Monster. A
word most Co:pern:icans had long
forgotten. But there it was, in a muddling
vaporous form. A creature so hideously
beautiful that its improbable existence
would have torn apart the mind of anyone
who looked upon it unprepared unless
they already had a memory of the beast.
Somewhere in Eliza Merrimans
consciousness she was able to put a name
to the wraith. Dragon. She was seeing a
dragon.
And not just one.
The ghostly images of a dozen or more

crossed each other time after time. Now

and then, she would catch a glimpse of an
eye. Jewel-like. Complex. All-knowing.
Magnificent. Wings shaped like the edges
of holly leaves, so dark that they tented out
the light as they approached. Tails, supple
and immensely strong; a single flick
would have the creatures swapping
direction or rolling on their backs at any
moment. Claws like the talons of
firebirds, but ten times, twenty times,
bigger than them and with danger oozing
from every tip. Fire that exploded a
million raindrops and caused the air
around them to bend to its will.
Dragons.
Eliza stumbled back and forth, trying to
make sense of it. There was no time to
think if they might be attacking her or how

she might defend herself or where she

m i g h t go. All she could do was
experience them. On and on and on they
came. Swooping, glaring, showing off
their power. Until, in time, the bizarre
thought struck her that the real enigma here
was she, and not them. At that point some
unforeseen confidence rose inside her and
she reached up her hands and cried, I
AM ELIZA!
Immediately, the creatures ceased their
strafing. The rain settled back into vertical
patterns and the dragons hovered in a
dome-shaped arrangement around her.
WHAT DO YOU WANT? she called
out. She swept around, staring at these
ghosts in turn, until one of them put itself
forth as a leader.
It was smaller than the rest, and there

was something about its slimly-built frame

that made Eliza shudder to her core. Its
body was more like the size of a mans.
Less scaly. Definitely boned (there was
next to no covering at the ribs). But the
notion of a man with the face of a dragon
and the wings of a bird (a gigantic bird),
was not something her auma could cope
with. She looked away rather than look it
in the eye.
Eliza, hold up your hands, it said.
The voice was in her head. A growling,
primitive sound that reminded her of the
roar that David had made during his
dream.
Shaking wildly, she turned and faced
the thing. What are you? she whispered.
The eyes, she could swear, despite their
strange triangular slant, were those of a

man.
Your hands, it said again.
And so Eliza raised her hands in the
shape of a cup. Only then did it occur to
her that the object she had moulded was
still within them. A burst of white light
suddenly engulfed it. The shockwave
travelled through Elizas arms and onward
to every extremity of her body. Her knees
buckled and her breath expired. For a
blink of time her constructed heart
stopped. She collapsed unconscious, onto
the Dead Lands. The object she had made
from clay rolled from her hands.
When the firebirds found her, she was still
in a heap. Six of them came. Three were
dispatched into the skies above to either
keep watch or trace down elements of the

ethereal activity that had drawn them to

this place. One, a green and orange beauty
not unlike Runcey, attended to Elizas
auma and general body warmth. The red
bird responsible for the attack on David
stood guard.
The last to arrive was the creamcoloured bird with the apricot tufts that
had visited the daisy fields outside the
librarium. Like before, it occupied itself
just strolling around investigating the
scene. At one point, it hopped onto Elizas
shoulder and was immediately shooed off
by its red companion. Despite the
difference of opinion, there was an
element of good fortune about this
dismissal. For when the cream bird
landed on the earth again, it stumbled
across a jewel every bit as impressive as

the flame it had found embedded in a

teardrop outside the eyrie. And it was not
just its eye ridges it lifted when it saw it.
Every feather on its body stood on end. It
let out such a startled rrrh! that the red
firebird gave an irritated squawk and
poddled over to see what all the fuss was
about.
The two birds gulped and looked at one
another. There in the dying grass was
something never before seen outside the
eyries.
An egg.

21
Two days after his chat with Rosa,
Thorren Strmberg arrived at the Ragnar
Institute to meet Harlan Merriman and
Bernard Brotherton. He was immediately
escorted to a secluded ground floor
laboratory and into a square, windowless
room. In the centre of the room was a
piece of apparatus that resembled a large
horseshoe (although horses were long
extinct, the symbol associated with them
was not; a common irony on Co:pern:ica).
The apparatus was serviced on either side
by two dormant com:puters. In front of the
shoe, as Bernard called it, was a dark
observation screen. It was behind here
that Thorren Strmberg was directed

while Brotherton set about priming the

device.
So innocuous a set-up, the counsellor
said. A number of lights flickered on
around the shoe, coating the ceiling in a
warm blue haze.
Harlan nodded. Less than four
dec:ades ago, the equipment you see here
would have taken up the entire Institute,
and more. Developments in molecular
tech:nology have enabled us to not only
reduce the size of the hardware, but vastly
increase the speed of our research. This
inoffensive piece of kit is close to creating
dark matter. One day, in this very room,
we will make and analyse the glue that
binds our universe together.
And today?
Today we find out what tore it apart,

briefly, in your clinic.

Strmberg gazed through his reflection
on the screen. The blue lights were now
chasing each other round the shoe and a
thin, distinct hum had risen from it. Do
you have clearance for this, Harlan?
The Professor turned his gaze to a
screen at his right, adjusting the position
of a cross-hair marker. Its my job to
investigate spatial enigmas.
Thats not what I asked. Is it safe?
Harlan Merriman pushed his tongue
between his lips. Since I last spoke to
you, Bernard has run over a thousand
simulations. The rifts produced by them
have all been stable. The only means of
activating a rift is by direct physical
intervention.
Stepping through?

Harlan smiled. Dont worry,

Counsellor. This is just a test. In
transference terms, it couldnt tele:port
your outgoing breath, let alone your stride.
Bernard, howre we doing?
Brotherton walked across in front of the
device and made a final check on the
second console. White coat. Balding head.
Drainpipe trousers. The caricature of a
scientist, Strmberg thought. Another
minit, the tech:nician said.
Harlan primed his com:puter. Hows
David? he asked, flicking switches. You
said you were going to visit him soon.
I did, Counsellor Strmberg replied.
Keeping his auma even he said, He was
sleeping soundly all the time I was there.
No more dreams?
Apparently not.

Harlan nodded silently.

You look disappointed.
Harlan shook his head. I cant help
thinking that if David was able to access
his dreams, there wouldnt be a need for
what were doing here.
Are you having second thoughts about
the procedure? Its not too late to abandon
this.
This is science, Harlan replied. As
long as we have a need for answers, there
will always be a need for procedures,
Thorren.
Bernard joined them at the observation
area. All set, he said, with a nervous
breath.
Harlan laced his fingers together and
stretched them. Well, gentlemen. Lets
see if we can find out what bothered my

son. Ready?
Strmberg and Brotherton nodded.
Then behold the universe in
microcosm.
And he lowered his hand towards the
controls.
In that same time frame, in the Dead
Lands, Aunt Gwyneth had returned to find
a trail of stones where Eliza had been,
each of them dropped ten paces apart. The
trail stretched over the nearest rise. And
even when the Aunt had crested that, the
stones continued well into the distance.
Far ahead, but still within walking range,
the old woman could see a small and
dreary group of hills. From the way their
contours caught the light, she knew there
would be caves amongst their slopes. And

that was not all. When she poked her

disagreeable nose into the air, the
elemental scent of wood smoke entered
them. From then on, her new aspirant
became of far greater interest.
Eliza had learned to light a fire.
With her ability to move at speed, Aunt
Gwyneth was at the end of the trail in
barely the time it took to imagineer it. Her
sudden appearance drew several fingers
of smoke from the fire and sent a pother of
cinders flying into the cavemouth. A
highly appropriate entrance, as it
happened. When the smoke cleared, Eliza
was not visible right away, but the
products of her time spent waiting were.
On every rock that bouldered the cave sat
a sculpture of a dragon, made from clay.
Each was no bigger than the size of a fist.

And though there was no colour or life in

them, their snarling jaws and grasping
talons were enough to make the Aunt rear
up in disgust. All of them were pointed
towards the cave approach, guardians of
the slope she was standing on.
What heresy is this? she hissed, and
cast her glance further, beyond the fire.
Eliza, also surrounded by miniature
dragons, was sitting cross-legged just
inside the cave, her red hair falling into
her lap. Im sorry, Aunt. I had no need of
you, she said. I found out by myself
what my familys anomaly was. And she
held out the bundle shed been cradling in
her arms.
It was a baby girl.
Simultaneously, on a floor of the librarium

not visited by humans for countless spins,

the cream-coloured firebird Aurielle
was her name was pacing the length of a
relic left behind by those same humans: a
polished oak dining table. In the centre of
the table were two wide-necked
candlesticks. On top of one stick, still
perfectly intact and possessing more than
enough buoyancy to keep it upright, was
the flame of the firebird, Azkiar,
preserved in the tear drop of the boy,
David. On the second stick sat an even
greater conundrum: the egg, made from the
clay of Co:pern:ica. Lying on the table
between the sticks was the circle of
violet-coloured daisies that Aurielle had
picked up with the tear drop, purely
because its beauty intrigued her and its
auma spoke of love.

A tear.
An egg.
A circle of daisies.
And a lot of kerfuffle.
From a nest of dust and feathers on the
bookshelf opposite (there were many such
nests on the upper floors) a tired voice
went rrrrrrh.
Aurielle stopped walking and looked
across the room to see Azkiar jiggling his
tail.
Would she please stop pacing? he
begged her. The scratch of her claws was
setting his ear tufts on edge.
Rrrh, she went back. It was all right for
him. All he did was fly about and make a
nuisance of himself. He didnt have to
make sense of things.
Blowing dust motes out of her nostrils,

she opened her wings and fluttered to her

perch: a high mound of books at the far
end of the table. It was not the most
reliable, as perches went (books slid
away if she landed too hard, or someone
not thinking of any red bird in particular
decided to pull one out of the stack), but it
faced the wall upon which the great
tapestry hung. In Aurielles opinion, there
was no better post in the entire eyrie.
She looked at the woven picture and
sighed. So beautiful, with its wide green
hills and its dragons flying gracefully
around the valley. And yet so menacing,
too. It seemed to tell the story of a great
battle Isenfier as Aurielle knew it.
Emerging from the tallest hill was a dark
apparition, which firebirds down the
centuries had labelled the Shadow of Ix.

It towered over the humans on the cloth.

And everyone or everything pictured
beneath it was shying away in fear,
especially the white, horned horse and the
dragons flying nearest its centre. Only the
kneeling child, who held a small dragon in
her hands, seemed unafraid. A faint white
halo lay around the girl, marking her out
as a saviour perhaps.
As for the dragon. Well, that was the
biggest conundrum of all. Aurielle was
very familiar with dragons as a breed.
They were pictured all around the eyrie (if
you knew where to look). But the dragon
in the hands of the girl was different.
Spiky. Green. Slight comical, really. And
if the scale was correct, smaller than a
firebird. And yet it had paws an
unmerited improvement on firebird

anatomy that always made her huff in

envy.
But how had it got here? When, and by
whom? Why had firebirds always
protected it?
And what did it mean?
Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted
by a squawk from the window.
A blue firebird (Aubrey) was calling
urgently for help.
Azkiar was off his shelf in a moment.
Rrrh! said Aubrey. Portal. Come. And
he shimmered his feathers and entered
light speed, which would take him to
Harlan Merrimans time rip in less than a
sec.
But as Aurielle and Azkiar prepared to
follow, there was a jolt and the whole
world turned. The last thing Aurielle

remembered of it was the sound of two

identical clatters and a great flare behind
her. Just as if two candlesticks had fallen
over and whatever was upon them had
come together in one small but significant
fusion of light
Rosa and Mr Henry would feel the jolt as
well. The whole of Co:pern:ica would.
For Rosa it would come after two more
days of putting books in order and
renewing her intent, none of which would
bring her any closer to unlocking the door
to Floor 43. Mr Henry (or rather Thorren
Strmberg) had overruled Aunt Gwyneth
and allowed Rosa to keep the glossy
dragon book, which she had read from
cover to cover when Strmberg had gone,
and re-read to David a dozen times

already. Despite her early uncertainty she

now regarded it as a wonderful treasure,
with many excellent illustrations and
several vivid accounts of how dragons
had lived (and died). But the remedy
wasnt working. Nothing was working.
The door remained locked. The mysteries
of Agawin stayed unresolved. And David,
despite the occasional twitch of an eyelid,
continued to sleep.
But Rosa did not lose faith. She had
become a minor expert in dragon:ology
by now. She knew their anatomy, their
habitats, their spiritual significance
(though some of the concepts confused
her) and their legends. There was also a
possible clue to why the red firebird had
singled out the book. One of its pages
showed a dragon in hibernation. Shed

had to run this term past Mr Henry and his

reference books before she understood
that it meant a kind of deep sleep. More
importantly, a short paragraph later in the
book described how a dragons fire could
induce a prolonged stasis which usually
wore off over a period of time. How much
time the book didnt say. But it was
encouraging all the same. Mr Henry
praised Rosas diligence and passed the
information on to the counsellor,
Strmberg, who sent an e:com saying,
Excellent. Keep watch. There was a little
more to the e:com than that. It was, in fact,
quite a detailed composition on the
possible
pheno:typic
associations
between firebirds and dragons. But all of
that was kept from Rosa (and Aunt
Gwyneth), whose only real interest was

David, anyway.
T he r e was something else she was
working on, though, quite possibly the
most intriguing thing about dragons, and
that was their language. Thorren
Strmberg had told the truth when he had
said that the symbols in The Book of
Agawin could be found elsewhere. They
were in her book. One little squiggle in
the right hand corner of every page. At
first glance, every squiggle looked the
same. But a careful page by page
examination showed that none were
completely identical. They were arranged
in slightly different places, too always
within the same triangle of white just
along from the page number, but definitely
spaced apart.
Rosa went to sleep with those marks in

her mind. She saw them as she turned the

pages in her dreams. What was it about
them? Why were they important? Did they
have any real importance? Maybe Thorren
Strmberg had got it wrong. Maybe the
author of the book was playing games.
Then, on the morning that Harlan
Merriman was about to conduct his spatial
experiment with the horizons of time,
Rosa found her answer. She was sitting
beside David with the book in her lap
when Runcey landed in the window space.
Oh, she gasped. Her heartbeat
doubled. The bird looked fit and well.
He poddled to the inner lip of the
window and cast his kind eye down at the
boy.
Rosa laced her fingers into a bundle
and brought them up to the level of her

chin. Can you wake him? she

whispered.
The firebird looked at the book she was
holding.
And Rosa, thinking back to the day of
the accident, suddenly felt guilty for
having it. She said, Im sorry you were
hurt. It was all my fault. Butthe red one
gave me this. Look, Runcey.
And with that she did something she had
not done before. She ran her thumb across
the edge of the pages and flicked through
them. She was searching for the picture of
the hibernating dragon, but as her gaze fell
upon the corner of the book something
quite extraordinary happened. In the short
time it took for sixty-four pages to roll
past her thumb, the marks came together as
one symbol. Three ragged lines. Parallel,

but not connected.

There was a click. The symbol not only
seemed to leap from the book but its
meaning entered Rosas head as well.
Sometimes.
Sometimes, she thought, the rain will
fall or the sun will shine.
Sometimes, David will wake or David
will dream.
Sometimes, the door will be closed or
the door will be open
Sometimes.
Mr Henry! she cried out. I know
how to read dragontongue! I
That was the point at which the world
jolted.
Everything went dark. Co:pern:ica
turned. And Rosa passed out.
She came to on the floor of the room.

Her chair had spilled over and Runcey

had gone.
But time had passed, and David was
stirring.
She went to him at once. Kneeling
beside him, she gripped his hand. His face
was turned to the window. She spoke his
name and he turned her way.
Then came the shock that neither was
expecting.
David? she said again.
Rosa? he replied. He sounded just as
puzzled as she was.
She let go of his hand and ran to the
only reflective surface in the room a
brass plate which titled the dictionary
shelf. In the brass she saw a beautiful
young woman, with large dark eyes and
long dark hair.

David pushed himself onto his elbows.

How long have I been asleep?
Rosa ran her fingers over her face. At
a guess, about eight spins, she gulped.

Part Two

which has its beginnings

on
Floor 43 of the Bushley
Librarium
March 7 032

1
Eh? How did that happen? David
peered at his hands as if the answer might
be written in secret on his palms. How
could I have slept for eight spins?!
You kind of did and you didnt, Rosa
said. A few minits ago, we were both
kids. Then there was this time quake or
something and suddenly were all grown
up and youre awake.
Time quake?
Or something. I dont know.
David patted his head and face. Hair.
Longer hair. Wavy. Thicker. Parted in the
centre, almost down to his shoulders. He
swung his feet off the bed. What caused
it?

I dont know.
Something here? In the librarium?
I dont know.
Is it just us, or?
You know, I think I preferred you
asleep, she cut in. I realise you must be
feeling all kinds of bright and sparkly right
now, but justslow down, OK? I have no
idea what caused the time jump. All I was
doing before it was She picked up the
dragon book from the floor.
David launched an inquisitive frown.
Whats that?
A book about dragons.
About what?
Drag Oh, David, just trust me. A lot
of things happened while you were
napping. She came over and sat beside
him. I know this must be weird for you. It

is for me, too. But dont drive me mad

with questions yet. Ill tell you everything
when its time, I promise. Right now, I
need a moment to make sense of
something.
He nodded and cast his gaze over the
book. Are they firebirds in armour?
Warbirds or something?
No. Theyre dragons. And theyre
actually very spiritual.
With jaws like that?
David, will you just shut up and listen!
The firebirds gave me this book. Well,
actually, one of them dropped it on you. I
didnt know why until just before the
quake. I found a door to Floor 43. Do you
rememberabout the upper floors and
stuff?
Yes, I think so. Youve been up to the

roof?
No. The door is locked, but the key to
it is in this book I think. Come on, Ill
show you. I want to try it. She bounced to
her feet.
Wait. Wheres Mr Henry?
Havent seen him, she said.
Well, shouldnt we go and find him?
He could contact my dad. He knows about
time.
Later, Rosa insisted. This is
exciting. She tapped the book. Come on,
well try the door then surprise Mr Henry
with it.
David stood up (a little unsteadily) and
looked at his reflection as Rosa had done.
Wow, he said, turning his face left and
right. How has this happened? Thats
amazing.

Not the adjective I would have used,

she said. But youll do.
At the end of the corridor on Floor 42, the
door was just as locked as ever.
No keyhole, David said.
Yeah, I kinda spotted that, Rosa said.
I think it opens with a command.
David struck a commanding pose.
Open up! he shouted, with his arms
extended.
Rosa dropped her shoulders. A
special command, idiot. Sleep hasnt
improved you, has it? Youre basically
still a boy in a mans body.
Yeah, and what are you?
She tossed her hair to one side and
chose not to answer. Stand back. Let me
have a go. She placed a hand upon the

door and spread her fingers. Sometimes,

she whispered.
To her dismay, nothing happened.
Was that it? David said.
Rosa stood away, sighing. I dont
understand. It should have worked. It was
so strong in my mind when I turned the
pages. She banged her fist lightly on the
door.
Have you tried that?
Tried what?
That knocking.
She swung around, anger blazing in her
eyes. Will you please take this seriously!
I sat by you for ages while you were
asleep, never knowing if you were going
to die or not. So just What are you
gawping at? His gaze was roaming all
over her face.

Youre really pretty, arent you?

Especially when youre angry.
She gulped, then whacked him in the
chest with the book. Concentrate, will
you? On the door, I mean. Look, if you
flick through the pages of the book it
makes a symbol come alive in one corner.
Im sure it means sometimes in dragon
language. I thought it would get us in if I
said it. I was wrong. Lets go and ask Mr
Henry.
Wait. He caught her arm. Show me
the symbol.
I darent, she said, running her hair
behind one ear.
Why not?
For all I know, it was me that caused
the time quake.
With a symbol?

She pointed to the dragon on the cover

of the book. These creatures are
powerful, David.
OK. Maybe its the symbol that opens
the door?
With a sigh, she thrust the book at him.
All right. You try it. But if I end up with
wrinkles, youre history. Got it?
He smiled and opened the book.
There, she said, pointing out the
marks. Flick fast. See what comes into
your head when it appears.
And so, without further ado, David
turned the pages as Rosa had done. Once
again, the three-lined symbol appeared. It
seemed to float off the pages as the ink
marks came together.
Rosa, her breath held, looked at the
door. Nothing. And, thankfully, she hadnt

aged a day. Did you get a meaning?

David stared at the symbol, then at the
door. Yes, he said. And he spoke it,
deep in his throat: Rrrh!
With a centuries-old creak, the door to
Floor 43 finally clicked open.

2
The same could be said of Rosas mouth,
though that fell open rather than clicked.
How did you do that? You made a noise
like a firebird.
I heard it in my head when I saw the
symbol.
The firebirds talk dragontongue?
Dont know, he said, lifting his
shoulders. I just heard the noise. And a
different translation. Sometimes is the
nearest we can get to it in Co:pern:ican. It
really means all things that are possible
are probable. And itsbig.
Big? she prompted him, becoming
impatient. She glanced at the door, barely
open a crack. It was moving slightly as if

a breeze was blowing from the other side.

Like you could imagineer a universe
by saying it, he thought. But instead he
said this, It sounded like Runcey with a
sore throat. Is he?
Runceys fine, Rosa sighed. And
much as I love this idle chit-chat, can we
do it another time, please? She gestured
towards the door.
OK, go on. Ill follow you in.
Uh uh, she said, clutching her arms,
you first.
Why should I go first? Youre the one
whos keen on doing the exploring.
It might be dangerous.
My point exactly!
Oh, David, justopen the door. She
put herself behind him and shoved.
Warily, he gripped the old brass handle

and opened the door just wide enough to

poke his head around it.
What can you see?
He waved her quiet. Bones. The bones
of a thousand dragons.
Whaaat?
He pulled his head back. Oh, and some
books.
With one big push, he swung the door
open.
He wasnt lying (about the books).
Rosa stepped past (having whacked him
again) into a room full of written wonder.
It smelled of dust and paper and wood, of
sunlight on wood, of the settlement of age.
It was enormous; ten times the size of any
room shed seen on the lower floors.
Strangely, the shelves here were set
within the body of the room and could be

accessed from either side, it seemed.

Dozens of them, placed at angles, like a
maze. All of them neatly-arranged with
books.
Wow, Rosa said, trailing her fingers
over a few spines.
David, following just a few steps
behind her, was reading the names of the
authors. Theyre in order, he muttered.
This is amazing, Rosa said, taking no
notice. Why do you think its been hidden
from us? She disappeared from view
around the end of a shelf.
Rosa, we should stay together, he
warned her. They were used to the
peculiarities of the floors they knew. But
this was different. There was something
strange about these books. David could
feel them pulling him in all directions,

whispering, as if they were begging to be

read. He ran to catch up, but Rosa was
several shelves ahead already and all he
saw was a swish of her skirt. He doubled
his pace and called out again. His voice,
lifted by the space around him, drifted into
the high ceiling. Looking up, he saw
patterns in the ancient plasterwork. A
system of stars. Planets. A universe.
Flying long and flat amongst the stars,
were dragons.
With a bump, he found Rosa again.
Watch where youre going, she tutted.
She flicked her hair off her shoulder and
showed him a book. These are weird. I
cant make out their genre.
He took it from her as she walked
away. Alicia in a Land of Wonder. Inside
was the normal printed text, but here and

there were drawings of quite grotesque

people in even more grotesque clothing,
plus what appeared to be pictures of
animals, though the only one David faintly
recognised was a katt with an oversized,
hideous grin. Did you read any of this?
No, Rosa said, scanning the shelves
higher up.
Its got amazing auma. Do you think
anyone will miss it?
Before Rosa could respond, their
attention was drawn by a clanking sound
further down the room. A firebird had
landed on a large metal sign suspended by
two long chains from the ceiling. It let out
a shrill rrrh!
Oh no, Rosa gasped. Thats the red
one that attacked you. Run!
Wait, David said, but she had already

gone. With a whoosh, the bird took off,

leaving the sign swinging and the chains
creaking. The last thing David became
aware of before he ran off in pursuit of
Rosa was the lettering on the sign, beating
its rhythm against his eyes:

FICTION

3
The red firebird, Azkiar, swooped low
over Davids head and landed on a shelf
stack, throwing up multiple clouds of dust.
Unsure whether to run or confront it,
David found himself stumbling down
unexplored lanes between the shelves. He
was going to be lost, very quickly, he
knew. But at least he was drawing the bird
away from Rosa. If she could make it to
the door she would be free to bring help.
And what was the worst that could
happen: more sleep?
When he turned down a lane that ended
in a wall, he realised that question would
soon have an answer. He skidded to a
halt, turned and looked back. Azkiar had

landed on the uppermost shelf at the far

end of the lane. David backed up until the
wall stopped him. He was half-concealed
in shadow, but darkness appeared to offer
little protection. He could see the birds
sharp eyes adjusting to the light. Making
hardly a sound, it opened its wings and
glided closer, crossing to the shelves on
the opposite side. Now it was just four
sections away twenty paces at most.
Books. They were Davids only
defence. He hated the idea of using them
as missiles, but what other choice did he
have? He was still holding onto Alicia in
a Land of Wonder , but that was quite
small as literary weapons went. He
grabbed another one of better weight and
turned to face the bird. Stay back. I dont
want to hurt you. I mean no harm here. I

I like books. And how hypocritical was

that, with four hundred pages of something
by the author Steven Kinge ready to be
launched from the end of his arm?
Azkiar fluttered across the lane once
more. Too close, David thought. He hurled
the Kinge.
Before he could grab for another, he
bore witness to one of the most dramatic
and distressing events of his life. As the
book flew fowards, Azkiar unlatched his
jaw and let forth a burst of orange fire. It
engulfed the book while it was still in
mid-air and turned it into a crackling
fireball. A small corner of the spine, not
instantly consumed, fell to the floor and
jumped around painfully as the flames
fizzled out. Black leaves edged with
bright red cinders drifted in flurries over

the shelves. A small part of the librarium

had been destroyed. All around him,
David could sense the buildings sorrow.
He could almost hear pages folding in
grief.
What do you want? he shouted.
Azkiar responded by leaving the
shelves and hovering in the air in front of
David. The birds ear tufts were up and
glowing scarlet; the frills around his neck
like spikes of steel. There was anger and
passion in his tapering gaze. The kind of
look that said trespassers were definitely
not welcome. David took a deep breath.
He had nothing but his honesty with which
to shield himself now. He stepped
forward, out of the shadows.
He braced himself for a burst of fire,
but it did not happen. Instead, a subtle

change occurred in the firebirds

expression. It tipped its beak down and
brought its eyes more central to its head.
Those eyes grew very round indeed and
blinked several times before settling to a
stare. Whatever mech:anism governed the
way they took in light extended to its
maximum, making the eyeballs shine like
mirrors until David could see himself
reflected in them, playing back like a pinsized movie.
Was he imagineering this or did the
bird look puzzled?
Please, he tried again. I mean you no
harm. Let me go and Ill
He never got the chance to complete his
sentence. With incredible versatility of
movement, the firebird turned, rose up and
flew away.

OK, David muttered, blowing with

relief. He had no idea why the bird had let
him go. But it had, and he needed to be out
of there fast. He crouched down and
touched what was left of the Kinge, to
offer it what little compassion he could.
Reminded that he still had the strange
Alicia, he glanced at the cover again. For
the first time in months (spins, even?) he
extended his auma and let it commingle
with the auma of the book. To his
amazement, it seemed to reach right into
him. It was ready to forgive. And it
wanted to be read. So definite. Almost
like a dying request. He slipped it into his
jacket pocket then tip-toed to the end of
the lane and looked around the shelves for
signs of more firebirds or Rosa. Why, he
wondered, had she not come to his aid?

Maybe she was lost? Or hiding

somewhere? He called her name. It
floated like a living thing amongst the
shelves. When he followed it, it brought
him back to the doorway and Floor 42.
Closing the door, he hurried through the
known part of the librarium, asking it to
take him straight to Rosa. Four connecting
rooms later, he arrived at the threshold of
Mr Henrys study.
Rosa was there, kneeling beside Mr
Henrys swivel chair. The curator himself
was sitting in the chair, with his head
lolling forward onto his chest.
Rosa? David said. She looked up as
he stepped in.
She was weeping, and looked as if she
had been for a while. Only now did David
see that she was clutching one of Mr

Henrys hands. His other hand was

hanging limply from his chair. Hes
dead, she sobbed. He aged as well. I
found him like this. Hes gone, David.
Im so sorry, said a voice from the
door.
David whipped around.
Harlan Merriman stepped into the light.
I came here immediately, to make sure
you were safe. He placed a hand on his
sons face, running his thumb along the
perfect cheek bone. Oh, David. What
have I done to you?
You know about the time quake?
David asked.
Harlan looked bleakly at Mr Henry. I
caused it, he said. A failed experiment.
Can it be reversed? Rosa said
tearfully.

Harlan shook his head.

There must be something you can do?
she begged.
There is, said Harlan, his expression
fixed. I can give myself up to the
Higher.

4
No, this cant be happening, Rosa said.
She sat back against the swivel chair,
burying her face.
Harlan looked at David and said, You
should leave here. And take Rosa with
you. It wont be long before Mr Henrys
death is noticed. Any diminution in the
universal auma triggers the inception of
the Re:movers programmed constructs
who deal with death and bodies, and
criminals. They dont ask questions,
David.
Im not leaving here, Rosa said.
Harlan bit his lip. The Aunts will
come as well.
Aunts? David queried. He, of course,

had no experience of them.

It doesnt matter, said Harlan,
gripping his sons arm and drawing him a
step or two away from Rosa. There isnt
much time. And I must speak to you
privately.
What happened? Rosa growled.
What did you do?
David? Harlan said quietly to him.
David looked into his fathers eyes.
Im staying with Rosa. This is where we
belong. Anything you say, you say to both
of us, Dad.
Harlan ran his gaze around the study
walls. Very well, he sighed, rubbing his
hand across his mouth. Youve both been
affected by the time shift. Its only right
that you should both know why. He
walked across to Rosa and touched her

shoulder. I really am genuinely sorry.

Shuddering, she drew her knees up to
her chin. And though she couldnt bring
herself to look at Harlans face, she
nodded gently to acknowledge his
remorse.
I was running an experiment in my
lab, he said, trying to recreate a
peculiar rift in the fabric of space that had
been observed during your dreams.
My dreams? said David.
Rosa put her hair behind her ears and
listened closely.
Perching on the corner of Mr Henrys
desk, Harlan went on, It showed up on a
film Counsellor Strmberg made of you
sleeping. You were never able to recall
what youd dreamt about, remember? Rifts
like that are not supposed to happen, not in

a carefully-controlled world like

Co:pern:ica. So you were confined here
by Strmberg while we tried to work out
whether you were the cause of it. You
suffer from a condition called
ec:centricity, David. It means that you can
imagineer outside the limits of the Grand
Design, even though you may not be aware
of it. The librarium is considered a neutral
environment. The plan was to keep you
here to calm you down, so you wouldnt
draw unnecessary attention to yourself
while we carried out our investigations.
And what did you find? Rosa asked
bitterly. It had better be important cos
its just killed Mr Henry.
Harlan nodded. The rift came from
another dimension.
What? said David.

I was looking for the source of it,

Harlan said, because I wanted to protect
you and, who knows, the rest of
Co:pern:ica, too. Unfortunately, we
generated a temporal distortion and this is
the result: everyone connected to the
project has aged. Fascinating for you,
myself and Rosa. Tragic for poor Mr
Henry.
Taxicar, David said, glancing through
the window. Four men in black suits had
just stepped out of it.
Rosa scrambled to her feet and looked
out. We could hide, she said. We know
lots of places. And we can get into the
upper floors.
I cant hide, said Harlan. I have to
take responsibility for what happened
here.

What will they do to you? David

asked.
Ill be banished to the Dead Lands.
Theyll send me somewhere I cant be
found.
But that will mean
That this will be the last time well
see each other, yes.
Theyre coming in, reported Rosa.
Dad, let us hide you.
No, said Harlan. That would make
you culpable both of you. Theyll track
me down eventually, wherever I go.
What about the rift? Tell me what else
you found.
I hear footsteps, said Rosa. She went
and stood by Mr Henry, and turned to face
the door.
Dad, the rift, David said, with more

urgency now. What else did you

discover? If I didnt cause it, what did?
Harlan stepped forward and pressed a
micro:pen into Davids palm. Something
stronger than you, he whispered. And he
threw his arms around his son and hugged
him tightly, just as the first of the suits
walked in.
Stand away, said the man. You will
separate. Now.
Oh Theyre likemachines, Rosa
whispered, reading them. David left his
father and went to stand beside her. The
knuckles of her free hand brushed against
his. He gripped her hand lightly, never
taking his eyes off the four Re:movers.
Rosa was right: they had the same kind of
auma readings as machines: low, with no
emotional oscillation. They were perfect

clones of each other, right down to the

level of the hair on their foreheads. The
only way they could be told apart was by
the patterns on their ties. Cross-hatched.
Pin-striped. Plain black. And spotted.
Spotted (the Re:mover that had spoken)
walked across to Mr Henry. He passed a
hand-held scanner over the body. It
responded with a terminal-sounding beep.
Death, by natural causes, he said.
Not quite, said a new and more
cynical voice.
To Rosas horror, Aunt Gwyneth sailed
into the room.
The Re:movers, David noticed,
immediately stood aside, apparently
awaiting orders from this woman. Who
are you? he said coldly.
Aunt Gwyneth saw Rosas hand in his.

Oh, your charmingcompanion will

bring you up to speed eventually, David.
For now, you will be silent while I do my
work. This room is overcrowded, she
snapped at the Re:movers. Take the body
to the taxicar.
In one fluid movement, Spotted tie
lifted Mr Henry from his chair, threw the
curator over his shoulder and carried him
out of the room.
Rosa covered her mouth.
As for this one. Aunt Gwyneth turned
to Harlan. He has been keeping secrets
from us. She put a jet black fingernail on
Harlans cheek, drawing it down his neck
and shoulder as she slowly circled behind
him. Where is Thorren Strmberg,
Professor?
I dont know, he said, trying not to

gulp.
We have the tech:nician, Brotherton.
She dragged the fingernail again, pressing
it into the soft pit of flesh behind Harlans
right ear. (David saw his father wince.)
Please, dont make this difficult. I dont
want to humiliate you in front of your son.
I ask you again, where is Strmberg?
I dont know, Harlan repeated
quietly.
Aunt Gwyneth stepped away from him
and set her spine straight. Check the
boys palms.
What? said Rosa. Why the sudden
interest in David?
The pin-striped Re:mover stepped in
front of him. You will show me your
hands.
Hes innocent, snapped Harlan.

Leave him alone.

Do it, Aunt Gwyneth said, rounding
on David. Your father passed you
something before I came in. Its written all
over his neural pathways.
The Re:mover raised his scanner in a
threatening gesture.
David had no choice but to open his
hands. In the palm where his father had
placed a micro:pen, was a golden ring.
My father knew his fate, David said to
the Aunt. So he wanted me to have this
ongoing symbol of love for my mother.
He saw his father give the faintest of nods.
Please, Aunt Gwyneth, dont take it,
Harlan pleaded. Let Eliza have
something to remember me by.
Aunt Gwyneth breathed in sharply.
Arrest him, she said, sweeping a hand

towards Harlan.
David closed his hand around the ring
once more.
Plain tie stepped forward. He scanned
Harlans eyes. You are identified as
Harlan Arthur Merriman. Arrested on the
authority of an Aunt. Have you anything to
say?
Harlan stared deep into the old
womans eyes. She was somewhat older
than the last time theyd met. And that
troubled him deeply. Whatever the
outcome of this, she was going to be
somewhere at the heart of it. Why, he
wished, thinking about Mr Henry, could
this dreadful woman not have died
instead?
Have you anything to say? the
Re:mover repeated.

Aunt Gwyneth put her mouth within a

spit of Harlans ear. What a pity, she
whispered, with cruel intent written
through her auma, that you will never
have a chance to see your charming
daughter.
My? How? What have you done?
Harlan floundered.
Take
him,
Aunt
Gwyneth
commanded.
Dad? Whats the matter? What did she
say to you? David stepped forward, only
for Cross-hatched and Pin-striped to move
to intercept. With a shock of pain, Pinstriped placed a hand on Davids chest to
restrain him.
In an instant, David imagineered the
Re:mover across the far side of the room.
The man-machine flew across Mr Henrys

desk, knocking over a globe and a small

com:screen before crashing into the
shelving behind it. Cross-hatched was
about to go the same way when Aunt
Gwyneth cried, Enough! and turned her
powerful eyes on David. He sank to his
knees in agony. The throbbing inside his
head was horrendous, as if she had put a
fork into his brain and twisted it twice
before pinning him down. Very
impressive, she growled. Use your fain
like that once more and I will have you
de:constructed, very slowly. She
scowled at Pin-striped, who was getting
to his feet (readjusting his tie). You will
be committed for re-programming. Now,
take this criminal away.
And with that, Harlan Merriman was
hauled from the room.

As though to add insult to injury, Aunt

Gwyneth cracked her knuckles (a quite
hideous sound) then came around the study
desk and sat in the curators green swivel
chair. She rocked it back and forth with
very little relish. One by one, she opened
the drawers of the desk and closed them
without disturbing the contents. She
picked up a book of something called
Crosswords and dropped it into the
waste bin in disgust. At last, she spoke.
Rosanna so much more elegant than
Rosa, dont you think? You dont mind
me using it, do you?
It was a question intended to be
answered, but Rosa preferred to keep her
silence.
I thought not, said the Aunt. Rosanna
it is. Listen closely, my dear. There are

going to be some changes in the running of

this building, now that your beloved
curator has gone. She clicked her fingers.
Two identical Aunts walked into the
room. Both were dressed in the manner of
Aunt Gwyneth: grey two-piece suit, plain
black shoes. Like the Re:movers, they
both wore ties. Maroon bow ties against a
white, collared blouse. The tie of the
woman on the right was at a slightly
crooked angle. She kept adjusting it, as
though it was a constant embarrassment. It
was the only way to tell the two of them
apart.
Who are you people? David said. He
was recovered again now and on his feet.
Aunt Gwyneth said, rather haughtily,
We are what brought you into being,
David. And we will decide your fate.

Rosanna, meet Aunts Primrose and

Petunia. They are not clones. They are that
rare commodity, twins. They will be your
keepers, during the period of
re:assessment.
Keepers? Rosas eyes darted over
the women.
You do want company, dont you?
Ive got company, thanks.
Aunt Gwyneth swung her chair. If
youre referring to David, Im afraid
youre mistaken. His time here is done. He
is going home. She raised a finger to shut
Rosa up. At his mothers request, I might
add. Tell me, David, what good-hearted
boy could possibly refuse? Especially
now you have a sister as well.
Sister? he said.
Penelope. Quite a sparky creation.

Artificially aged to eight and a half by

your fathers dangerous, unauthorised
experiment. She is keen to meet her
unkempt, if really rather handsome,
brother. I took the trouble to order you a
taxicar. Its right outside. Dont keep it
waiting.
David? Rosa said. She ran across the
room and plunged into his arms.
He stared at Aunt Gwyneth over Rosas
shoulder. What do you mean by
re:assessment? Whats going to happen
to the building if I go?
The Aunts will survey it and make a
report. A new curator will then be
appointed. That is the law, David.
For a moment, he thought about it. All
right, but Im taking Rosa with me.
Rosa stepped back then, gripping his

forearms. No. Our place is here, taking

care of the books. Its what Mr Henry
would have wanted.
How touching, Aunt Gwyneth said,
without any hint of warmth or sincerity.
David, let me see if I can make your
decision easier. She sat back, steepling
her wrinkled fingers. Oh, yes. Rosanna
cant leave here. She was committed by
her parents and they must give permission
for her re:moval. That is also the law. The
trouble is, her parents are dead.
What? said Rosa.
Well Aunt Gwyneth twizzled a
hand. They voluntarily left for the Dead
Lands. Thats as good as dead. Which
means you are officially an orphan, my
dear. That puts you under my jurisdiction.
And as I cant afford to have you trailing

round after me or interfering with my

work, Ive decided that this building will
house you for life. So theres your
predicament, David. Rosanna stays here.
You must choose between her or your
mother.
David took a shuddering breath.
Dont leave me, said Rosa. Please,
dont go.
Ill come back, he said, pulling her
hands off his arms.
No, she begged him. The building
needs us. You cant just leave behind
everything weve done. The Aunt called
Petunia stepped forward and held her.
I promise, Ill come back, he said to
her again. And with one last glance at her
beautiful eyes, he moved towards the
door. He was right on the threshold when

she cried out bitterly: If you go, I wont

want you back!
David paused as if a cold spear had
passed through his heart. He closed his
hand tight around the golden ring, and
reimagineered it to its proper shape.
Clutching his fathers micro:pen, he
walked out without another word.
I do believe its going to rain, said
Aunt Gwyneth.
And she swung her chair towards the
window and smiled.

5
Meanwhile, upstairs on Floor 108, a very
different kind of meeting was taking place.
In the time it had taken David Merriman to
hurry downstairs and learn of the death of
Mr Henry, the red firebird, Azkiar, had
flown with great haste to Aurielles room,
to inform her, first and foremost, that hed
encountered humans on Floor 43 and
Well, he was out of breath before he could
deliver the next part of his story and by
then Aurielle was flapping her wings in a
dire panic and immediately suggesting
they sound the alarm and wake the flock.
Azkiar sighed. He hopped from foot to
foot and fluffed his feathers. Why did
Aurielle never listen to him all the way

through? And she called him impatient?

He fluttered to her book perch and raised
his eyes to the Tapestry of Isenfier .
Looking at it now made his heart skip a
beat. With a snort, he turned his gaze back
to the table where Aurielle was still
scratting about. There was no need for
defensive action, he assured her, because
hed seen the man leave and close the
door behind him (hed tracked back,
silently, just to be sure). Man? Aurielles
ear tracts widened. Once again Azkiar
started to explain and once again the
cream bird interrupted him. The curator?
she asked, paddling her feet. The curator
has discovered the code? At that point
Azkiar almost wished hed just gone to his
nest and slept for a spin. It was the boy
that Rosa calls David, he said. Except he

isnt a boy any more. Hes grown.

Now although this information was
undoubtably of great magnitude, it was not
the principal ingredient of Azkiars report.
Before he could get to the vital disclosure,
Aurielle had turned aside yet again and
started doing her pacing thing. She tottered
towards the centre of the table, feeling the
creaks in the joints of her knees. They had
not been so good since the onset of the
jolt, which supported her belief that shed
aged because of it. She had spotted signs
of aging in Azkiar, too. The slightly
greying fringes at the tips of his ear tufts.
The general lack of shine in his normally
glossy feathers. If what he was saying
about David was accurate, there was no
doubt that a time shift had occurred. But
what had caused it? And what did it

mean? She paused by the candlesticks,

now righted again. Between them, in the
traditional nest of sticks where a firebird
would place a hatching egg, was the egg
that Aurielle had found in the Dead Lands.
Since the jolt, it had grown to three times
its size and was clearly going to open
before long. The tear she had picked up
amongst the daisies had disappeared
during the confusion, but Aurielle was
certain it had merged with the egg. What
else could explain the changes in the clay?
The egg had grown a shell, like a firebird
egg. The only anatomical difference being
that instead of bright colours pulsing
round the skin there was a plain white
glow coming off the surface. Whatever
was inside, it wasnt a firebird. But for
now, Aurielle was saying nothing about

that.
Azkiar gave an impatient squawk.
Mmm, yes, Aurielle muttered, aware that
he needed some kind of response.
Quickly, she settled on a course of action.
She must meditate on his discovery, she
said, which was not the answer Azkiar
was waiting for. To her alarm, he flew
down to the table and chased her twice
round the candlesticks. Meditate? How
many hours and spins had she wasted,
brooding over this woven cloth, bending
his ear tufts with her theories? He
collared her against a high-backed chair.
Downstairs was visible proof that the
tapestry actually meant something. If she
didnt believe him, she should go and
investigate the humans herself. (He was
not aware at that point that David had

been sent away by Aunt Gwyneth.)

Aurielle gulped and tightened up the
muscles of her beak, drawing it slightly
away from his. Yes, she could do that , she
said, but then in a very timid voice added
that she still didnt quite understand what
he was getting at? All right, a human had
triggered the door, but that in itself didnt
mean very much. Azkiar sighed and turned
aw ay. Its not the door , he said. Its
David, the man. Ive seen him before
and so have you.
And therein lay the nub of the puzzle.
For when Aurielle quite rightly suggested
that Azkiars senses were becoming
addled because she had not been present
on Floor 43 when he had encountered the
grown-up David, Azkiar twizzled his
glowing ear tufts and pointed a wing at the

Tapestry of Isenfier . And at last he was

able to finish his report and tell her why
he had backed away quickly when hed
cornered David in the fiction department.
He pointed to two of the pictured humans:
a man, cradling a woman in his arms.
Them, he said to the stunned Aurielle,
They were the humans I saw on Floor 43.
They are David and Rosa.

6
I thought youd be taller.
Hmph, said David. Well, Im quite a
lot bigger than you.
Im only nine.
Eight and a bit, actually. I am tall,
anyway. Im over six feet.
And very handsome, Eliza Merriman
said. She stopped what she was doing and
came to sit down at the kitchen table.
Ive got longer hair than you,
Penelope said. She pulled a strand of her
blonde curls down towards her shoulder.
David tilted his head and let his wavy
hair fall. Yes, but mine does that without
help.
Well, mines springy! the girl said

furiously.
All right, said Eliza. Its not a
competition. I love you both just the way
you are. Hair, height, shoe size
temperament.
My shoes are size four.
Thank you. Duly noted. Look, why
dont you make your brother feel at home
by making him a nice cup of tea?
Make? said David. (The verb was
unusual on Co:pern:ica.)
His mother waved him silent.
OK, Ill put the kettle on, Penelope
said. (Even more unusual.)
Yes, Penny put the kettle on, her
mother echoed, almost singing the words.
The little girl jumped up and ran to the
sink.
She doesnt imagineer very well,

said Eliza, keeping her voice low so the

child wouldnt hear. Her fain is there, but
she hasnt had the chance to learn how to
use it, probably because of the ageing
process and the way she was born.
Well talk about it later, when were
alone. Just indulge her for now and
dont mention Harlan.
She doesnt know about Dad?
No. And I want to keep it that way for
now.
Are we having cake as well,
Mummy?
The best, Eliza said, sending
Penelope scurrying to the fridge.
Oh, Boon! the girl tutted, almost
knocking the katt sideways as she yanked
the door open. Get out of the way!
Boon chuntered and righted his course.

He spent a sec or two imperiously licking

his tail, then jumped up and settled on
Davids lap as if his owner had never
been away.
Hey, Penny? David said, stroking
Boons head. He ran his thumb inside the
shell of the imperfect ear.
Yes?
I brought you a present from the
librarium.
Did you?
Mmm. Its in my room.
Where? On the bed?
Im not saying. Youve got to find it.
Penny put the kettle down and was gone
in a flash.
Well, there goes your cup of tea,
Eliza said.
Its all right, it was deliberate so we

can talk.
Eliza glanced down the arm of the pod
that led to Davids room. Dont be silly.
Shell be back at any moment.
No, she wont, he grinned. Im
moving her present around until I need her
to find it.
You can do that? From a distance?
Eliza stared at him in wonder. Your
father always said you would reinvent the
rules of imagineering.
I need to find him, Mum.
She looked away, trying to resolve her
hurt. David, he killed someone. It was all
over the t:com news. If you go after him,
Ill lose you both.
David rested his fingers against Boons
neck. Mr Henrys death was an accident.
Dad made a mistake, but hes not a

criminal. Did he explain to you why he

was running the experiment?
Eliza shook her head. Harlan rarely
discussed his work. Im not even sure I
want to know. Eight years of life with my
children has gone. I cant forgive him for
that. Besides, I wasnt around when he
was planning the experiment. I was taken
from here, to be trained as an Aunt. I was
in the Dead Lands when all this was
happening.
An Aunt? You couldnt become an
Aunt in a million spins.
Mmm, truer than you think. According
to the one who took me in, Im too wild
to learn their ways. She cancelled my
programme and sent me home. Im just so
relieved that she let me keep Penny. Im
effectively under house arrest, here. Im

being monitored by her. She could turn up

at any moment, day or night. If she comes
calling, you must give her access. I mean
that. No confrontations, OK? Her name is

Aunt Gwyneth.
Eliza looked up.
I met her at the librarium. Shes the
one who exiled Dad. Sounds like shes got
a finger in everything.
Shes an Aunt Su:perior. A very
powerful influence.
I dont trust her, David said. He
picked up a banafruit and started to peel
it.
David, that kind of talk is going to get
you into trouble.
I can read it in her auma, Mum. The
womans not right.

Once again, Eliza looked away, pained.

I hear what youre saying and I know I
should feel great anger towards her. Shes
torn our family apart, after all. But there
was a moment in the Dead Lands when I
sensed she had genuine compassion for
me.
Why, because of Penny?
No, not Penny. And thats another
story, anyway. Aunt Gwyneth wasnt there
when Penny was born. Neither was your
father. I constructed Penny without
Harlans auma or the patronage of the
Aunt. Your sister was birthed from an
egg.
An egg?
Shush. Shes got ears the size of your
librarium. I dont understand how this
could happen either. Aunt Gwyneth

described it as self-propagation. She

had a few other spikier words for it as
well, but Im not going to repeat them
here. You must promise me you wont say
a word of this to Penny.
Of course not. But an egg? Like a
firebird, you mean? You found a firebirds
egg and imagineered a girl inside it?
No. I made an egg. Physically. From
this. She opened a drawer and plopped a
chunk of earth wrapped in paper on the
table. Its called clay. I brought it back
from the Dead Lands. David, I saw things
in that place. Things way outside the
Grand Design. Animals like Boon,
different from Boon. And incredible flying
creatures.
Dragons? he asked, suddenly
becoming still.

Yes. She looked stunned. You know

about dragons?
He thought back to Rosa and her book.
Rosa: what must she be feeling at this
moment? I learned a little in the
librarium. Tell me what happened.
Eliza raised her shoulders. There isnt
much to say. One moment I was totally
alone in the wilderness and the next,
dragons had appeared in the skies all
around me. They were transparent, almost
ghostly, but they felt very real. I had a
powerful instinctive memory of them.
Thats how I knew what they were. At
first they swooped over me as if they were
checking that I wasnt a threat. Then one
of them, a really strange-looking creature,
skinny and bony and not nearly as thicklyscaled as the rest, guided me to a cave

to shelter. Thats where I began to work

with the clay. As well as the egg, I made
figures of the dragons Id seen. Aunt
Gwyneth destroyed them all before we
left. I was lucky to smuggle this wodge of
clay out.
David pressed his thumb to it, leaving a
dent.
Theres something else you should
know. They did something, David. The
dragons, I mean. They were partly
responsible for Pennys birth. One night, I
left the egg in a nest of dead wood at the
mouth of the cave. A dragon spirit came
down and immersed it in flame. It tripled
in size and glowed for two days, too hot to
go near. As it cooled, it cracked open.
And there she was. This tiny human child.
Beautiful. Fully-formed. And completely

unblemished apart from one thing.

And what was that?
Eliza picked at her fingers for a
moment. She had a small dragons tail.
Tail? David mouthed. He felt his gaze
being pulled towards his room. And is
it?
No. It shrivelled away almost
immediately. It seemed to be absorbed
inside her.
So shes part dragon? She has their
auma?
Yes. Its possible I do, too. And you
know what? The idea fills me with joy.
They are amazing creatures. I felt more
alive among them than Ive ever done
before.
David finally took a bite of his
banafruit, though he seemed to have lost

the will to chew. How did Aunt Gwyneth

react?
She doesnt know. I was planning to
tell her. But after she destroyed the
sculptures I thought it would be too
dangerous.
David nodded. That was a reasonable
assumption. Why destroy the sculptures?
I dont understand that.
She called them a heresy against the
Design. And yet Im convinced she
believes in dragons.
She must have had her suspicions
about Penny?
Eliza nodded. She almost collapsed
when she saw her. The feeling I had
waswhats that old word? Envious.
Surely Aunts can have a child like
anyone else?

Not one like your sister.

Got it! cried a voice.
David sat back, tutting. In the midst of
the conversation he had let his
concentration slip. Penny was pounding
back towards the kitchen. He cleared his
thoughts and said, Dads com:puter. Is it
still in his study?
Yes, but its useless. Wiped, I think.
The Re:movers came and
Thats OK, David said, raising his
hand.
Penny ran in breathless. She plonked
Alicia in a Land of Wonder on the table.
What is it? she asked.
A book, David said. You read it
andpictures come into your head.
Whats reading? Penelope looked
blankly at her mother.

David pushed Boon off his lap and

stood up. Ill teach you, he said. He
picked up the book and tapped Penny on
the head with it. Ill read it to you.
Tonight. At bed time. Would you like that,
little sister?
Read it now! she said excitedly.
Not now, said David. Too many
things to do.
Oh! Like what?
David smiled and tousled her hair.
Com:puter. Micro:pen. Answers , he was
thinking.
He put the last of the banafruit into his
mouth and made his way to his fathers
study.

7
Harlan Merrimans private room was just
as David had remembered it: pale blue
walls (plain, for calmness, his father
always said), vertical blinds (half open)
at the window, a purple frondulus to add
a sweet breath of contrast to the blue, a
desk in the centre of the wood-effect floor.
A model of minimalism, the study had
always been neat and uncluttered, though
the ornamental constructs that usually
decorated the alcove shelves had gone
possibly taken by the Re:movers, more
likely faded away. A material construct, if
uncared for or left untended for a while,
would eventually begin to disassemble,
and the fain required to make it would be

returned to the Higher. An individuals

power to imagineer could quickly
diminish in this way. In extreme cases it
could be lost for good. For that reason, the
shrewd Co:pern:ican did not create
excessive possessions, but managed their
fain at comfortable levels and learned
only to construct what they needed, when
they needed it. A true appreciation of the
world around them was one of the greatest
Co:pern:ican virtues. Harlan had been a
wise exponent of the practice, but had
always liked to gather real artefacts too.
David picked up a light-grey pebble, the
only thing left lying on the shelves. It was
shaped like a cloud and had yellow
striations across its surface. There was no
telling where his father had found it, but
that was just part of Harlans enigma.

David dropped it into his pocket,

exchanging it for the micro:pen. He went
and sat in his fathers chair.
Begin, he said.
The com:screen pinged into life.
Explore.
The com:puter reported no software
available. Wiped, as Eliza had said.
David inserted the pen. It was
recognised immediately. As data poured
into the molecular drive he tapped his
knees in appreciation. His father, forward
thinking as ever, had downloaded all the
run:time software the com:puter needed
onto the pen. It wasnt long before the
machine was up to full efficiency. As it
reached that status, a window opened and
Harlan Merrimans face appeared on the
screen.

One to one, David said. The sound of

Harlans voice would now be digitally
reshaped so that it fell only within
Davids envelope of hearing.
In a whisper, the image of his father
said, David, if youre watching this, then
I managed to reach you before they
tracked me down. I didnt have long to
make this :com, so if Ive missed anything
or Im repeating what Ive already told
you, forgive me.
There are two films on the drive. One
is of you in a sleep facility at Thorren
Strmbergs therapy centre. We took you
there when you were twelve spins old
because
you
were
experiencing
nightmares you couldnt recall the next
day. You were sent to the librarium on
Thorrens advice. He did it to protect you.

Hes a good man, David. Trustworthy.

Clever. Hes gone into hiding to avoid the
Aunts. He didnt betray me; I asked him to
do this because he was present when the
second film was shot. That was done at
my lab, where we were trying to recreate
the conditions of your dreams. Youll
know about the time distortion by now. I
havent had time to analyse the footage,
but I believe that whatever caused the
quake is not of this world. You possess
extraordinary talents, David. Something,
somewhere, knows it and wants to track
you down. I dont know why. Watch the
film I can hardly stop you now but if
anything becomes apparent, I beg you not
to attempt anything. Find Strmberg. Show
him. Take it to the Higher. And please,
dont come looking for me. Theyll send

me to the Dead Lands. You could spend an

eternity trying to find me. I want you
instead to take care of your mother. But
most of all, take care of yourself.
The window closed. Without waiting
for a verbal command, the com:puter
began to play the film Project 42. David
sat forward. For the first time he saw what
his father had seen the disturbed sleep,
the rift, the firebirds coming. But what
made him tilt forward on the edge of his
chair was the sight of himself morphing
into
Reverse 20 secs, he said. Replay till
command.
The section played over and over.
David sat back again, shaking his head.
What was happening to him? What was he
becoming? What kind of creature had

curving yellow teeth and brown eyes that

slanted back like that? And what was that
creature attempting to fight? A burst of
laughter distracted his thoughts. Glancing
sideways, he saw Penny in the garden,
playing with Boon. Penny, who looked
just as human as he did. If his sister had
dragon auma inside her, was it possible
that he had something unusual as well? I
saw things in that place. Things way
outside the Grand Design. Animals like
Boon, different from Boon. His mothers
words tripped through his head again.
What if the animal hed become in his
dreams was once alive and well in the
Dead Lands? He swung his chair back to
the screen again. Stop. Next film. The
com:puter cleared the image. Up instead
came the darker environment of Harlan

Merrimans laboratory. David recognised

his father and Thorren Strmberg and
guessed that the third man was Bernard
Brotherton, the tech:nician who had
visited his father at home several times.
The camera was pointed at the horseshoe
of lights, giving roughly the same view
that the scientists had from their
observation platform. Their conversation
was hard to pick out, but David heard his
father make a bold announcement before
he activated the horseshoe device. Behold
the universe in microcosm.
At first, there was nothing. No obvious
effect. Then the airspace described by the
frame of the shoe began to stretch and
fold, and crackling bolts of elec:trical
energy emerged from nodes all around its
inner surface. Where they met, at the

centre of the airspace, a vertical

shimmering line appeared, just like the
one in Davids dream. The two scientists
briefly congratulated each other. Then
David saw Bernard Brotherton turn to the
panel of controls beside him and say
something back to Harlan. The tech:nician
shook his head. He sounded troubled. But
Harlan half-raised a hand, clearly
indicating that the procedure was not to be
halted yet. Strmberg at the same time was
pointing to the shimmer, which was
bulging as though it was about to split
open. Suddenly, a firebird came into the
picture. It had flown through the construct
that was the laboratory wall and had
positioned itself right behind the
horseshoe. It wasnt one that David
recognised, but it had clearly come to do

the same job as before: seal up the

shimmer and go. He saw his father leave
the observation platform, frantically
waving his hands in an effort to stop the
bird interrupting. The bird widened its
nostrils and produced a jet of fire. An
unseen wave of energy was expelled from
the shimmer in all directions. The result
was dramatic. The firebird and all three
men were catapulted as far from the pulse
as the walls of the laboratory would
allow. Likewise, the horseshoe and the
com:puters controlling it were torn apart
or smashed against anything solid. The
shimmer disappeared to a fine point, as if
it had been sucked into a hole in space. A
sec later, the camera flickered and gave
out. The film stopped.
But there was something, just before the

end of it, that aroused Davids curiosity

and made him call again for a slower
replay. He thought he had seen a blemish
on the film. A small blip of blackness just
before the pulse. A camera glitch
perhaps? He asked the com:puter to zoom
in and play back the end sequence,
showing it in single frames. Over the
course of five of those frames he noticed a
strange sequence of events. The firebirds
flame, far from being blown well away
from the shimmer, had been sucked right
into it and something else had emerged in
its place. It looked like a puff of black
smoke, nothing more. Further zooming
proved no help. And even when David
lassoed the smoke with a drawing tool,
isolated it from its background and asked
the com:puter to analyse the structure, the

software had no answers for him.

And yet a possible answer was about to
emerge from a most unlikely source. As
David swung back in his chair, tapping his
toes and pondering what hed seen, there
was a knock at the window. It was Penny,
of course. She was cupping her face and
trying to stare through the half-open
blinds. Not wanting her to see the images
hed found, David thought about blanking
the screen, but decided instead to tease
her a little by re-imagineering the blinds
in a different position. As she moved to
try to find a clearer view, he partially
frosted the glass.
Her fist came up and she knocked again.
In a muffled voice she shouted, David,
come here. Ive got something to show
you.

Busy, he shouted back. He blanked

the screen anyway. Close down, he said
to the com:puter.
Boon chased a firebird! Look, it
dropped this.
David glanced at the waving hand. In it
was a feather. A pure black feather.
Puzzled, he rose up and opened the
window.
Penny waggled the feather proudly. It
was on the fence. Boon jumped for it and
it flew away.
David glanced around the garden.
Everything was calm. A black firebird?
Yes!
Did you see where it went?
She shook her head. It was fast. She
let him take the feather. Good, isnt it?
David nodded. Its very interesting,

Penny.
Im going to put it under my pillow.
Put what under your pillow? Eliza
had just stepped into the gardenaria.
My feather, said Penny, taking it
back.
Her mothers face crumpled up in a
frown. Where did you get that?
From a firebird, silly, Penny said a
little rudely, annoyed at having to repeat
herself.
But there are no black firebirds on
Co:pern:ica. Eliza looked blankly at her
daughter.
There are now, David muttered. And
he closed the window.
And Penny shrugged happily and ran to
her room.

8
Although he would have liked to have
dwelt a while longer on why a black
firebird had appeared in the gardenaria
(or indeed appeared at all), David
abandoned the mystery just then in favour
of reintroducing himself to some kind of
home life. He spent the rest of that day
with his mother and Penny, either walking
in the woodland constructs near their pod,
or playing with Boon, or looking through
dozens of digi:grafs of himself when he
was Pennys age (carefully sifted to avoid
shots of Harlan). Only when Pennys
bedtime came around did he get the
chance to speak to his mother again
privately. And it was she who began the

conversation.
Youre troubled, arent you?
They were in the gardenaria, under the
setting sun, imagineering possibilities for
Elizas rockery. The horrible fungus Aunt
Gwyneth had introduced had been not-somysteriously de:constructed. In its place
Eliza had tried a variety of rocks, any
number of different plants, a few
ornaments, and a hanging light, though
none of them seemed to fit her overall
concept. Eventually, David solved the
conundrum by imagineering a small
arched door at the base of the stones,
which, he said, would give Boon the
impression that something actually lived
in the mound. Hours of fun could be had,
he suggested, watching Boon waiting for
the door to open.

Eliza punched his arm in jest. You are

horrible to that katt. All the same, its a
sweet idea. Thank you. She pulled him
closer and kissed his cheek. You havent
answered my question: whats bothering
you?
Ive seen a film that was taken during
my time at the therapy centre.
Film? How?
Dad gave me a micro:pen when he
was arrested. Dont worry, its in a safe
place.
Eliza nodded. She crouched down and
tended the flowers. What was on this
film?
Me, turning into some kind of animal.
He described it for her. I dont know
what it is or what it means, but there are
only two places that might hold the

answers. And as youll disapprove of me

going to the Dead Lands it will have to be
the librarium. Im going to need to go back
there, Mum.
So soon?
David shrugged and ran his hand over
Boon (who had just stretched out near the
rockery door). In a day or two maybe. It
never really occurred to me until now that
I could use the books as a resource. And I
feel very bad about walking out on Rosa.
The brash girl? Is she still there?
Mmm. Not much of a girl any more.
Shes very Well. Grown up, I suppose.
When I left the librarium I had to get out
quickly and keep my auma detached, in
case Aunt Gwyneth found the micro:pen. I
couldnt tell Rosa. She was pretty hurt,
Mum.

You like her, dont you?

Hard not to, really. Childhood friends
and all that.
Will you bring her here?
David sighed and pulled a flower stalk
through his fingers. Shes not allowed to
leave the librarium.
Is she going to take over from Mr
Henry?
I dont know. Shed be the obvious
choice.
Hey! a voice called.
David turned and saw Penny at her
bedroom window.
Are you coming? she shouted.
In a minit, he shouted back. He
rubbed his mothers arm. Look, I dont
have to stay away long. I just want to find
out what I can about the dream and make

sure Rosas all right.

Eliza gave him a knowing smile.
Youll stay, she said. You miss her
already. She reached over and pushed
her hand through his hair, helping it fall
towards his shoulder. Youre everything
I ever expected of you, David. If you care
for this girl, Id want you to do your best
for her. But be a good brother to Penny as
well. Shes going to miss you just as
much.
He took hold of his mothers hand and
kissed it. Ill stay until Ive finished the
book.
Books whatever happened to them?
she mused. What is it, again, this thing
youre going to read to her?
He rose up and took a step towards the
house. A story from Floor 43.

When he got to the bedroom, Penny was

sitting up in bed in her pyjamas, the book
open in her hands. Ive been looking at
the pictures, she said excitedly. Theres
a girl in it. She looks like me.
Thats Alicia. She doesnt look a bit
like you. Shes got more hair for a start.
Mine will grow. Whats she wearing?
Over her dress?
David took the book from her and
turned it round. I think its called a
pinafore.
I like it, Penny said. She wears
kicker boots as well.
She does, said David, remembering
someone else who was never seen out of
them. He sat down on the edge of the
mattress and turned to the first page of
text. Right. Are you ready?

Yes!
Chapter one.
Whats that?
Whats what?
Chapter one.
David flicked his eyes sideways.
Chapter one is the start of the story.
Books are split up into chunks, called
chapters.
Oh. When will I see the pictures in my
head?
When you stop asking questions, and
listen.
OK, she chirped, and set her
shoulders straight.
Chapter one. Alicia was in a bad
mood
Why?
David paused and drummed his fingers

over the page. Well, if shes anything

like me, she gets annoyed at people who
interrupt while theyre trying to read.
Sorry, Penny whispered, pulling in
her lips. Is someone reading to Alicia,
then?
Stay calm, thought David. Shell get
used to it in a minit. He read on a few
lines and summarised the text. No. Shes
fed up because her sister wont play a
game with her and now shes wondering
whether to chase a white rabbit across a
field.
Whats a rabbit?
OK, that is a fair question, he thought.
He turned the book around and showed
her a black and white illustration of a
rabbit in a waistcoat looking at a pocket
watch.

Ive never seen a rabbit before.

No, me neither, he said. Were they
imagineered? he wondered. Or did they
actually exist at the time the book was
written? If so what happened to them?
I like its ears, said Penny. Whats it
doing?
Checking the time.
Doesnt it have a :com?
David shook his head. The book is
very old. In those days, people carried
devices called watches and read the time
from them. He remembered Mr Henry
doing just that, and once again that
reminded him, poignantly, of Rosa. He
read a little more. Odd though it was to
see a rabbit with a timepiece, Alicia
decided that she would give chase. She
dashed across the field and was just in

time to see the rabbit skid to a halt beside

two doors in the side of a grassy hill.
Show me! Penny cried.
There isnt an illustration for that,
David said. The idea is you see it in your
mind.
Penny drew her eyes down into a
frown.
I can see it, he said. The doors are
made of panels, some of which have holes
that you cant quite see through. And they
dont have handles but they do have
knockers shaped like
Like what? Penny prompted.
Like dragons, David wanted to say,
though there was nothing about them in the
book.
Show me, Penny said again, sitting
forward.

I just told you, there arent any

pictures for this.
Show me your pictures. Mum says you
imagineer really well.
David thought about it. OK, that could
work. But you have to join in.
Penny sat up, knocking her fists
together. Are we going to commingle?
Well, we can try.
Brilliant! She closed her eyes and
started to hum.
Penny, what are you doing?
Commingling, she said.
You dont have to hum, he laughed.
You just need to focus your fain. Watch.
And right before his sisters eyes, a
perfect image of a worried white rabbit
floated into view.
Hhh! Penny gasped.

This is what makes reading fun, said

David. Building pictures in here. He
tapped the side of her head. You dont
need much fain to keep them there, just
patience and the right words to guide you.
See if you can imagineer Alicia.
OK, she said. Her eyebrows came
together in a knot of concentration.
The result made David smile. Floating
beside the rabbit now were a pair of
kicker boots, minus a body. The rabbit
stared down at them and jumped in
surprise. David glanced at the book. That
piece of action wasnt described in the
text. Interestingly, his imagineered
character was acting on its own behalf.
Did it work? said Penny. Her eyes
blinked open. Right away, her shoulders
sagged in disappointment.

You only got the boots because thats

what you most desired, David said.
Think about Alicia all of her. She
doesnt have to be like she is in the book.
Its how you picture her that matters.
So Penny tried again. After a stuttering
start, Alicias body grew upwards out of
her footwear. Penny had constructed her
the way she was drawn, except for one
thing: the colour of her hair.
Well done, David said (adding in an
arm that Penny had missed). Why the red
hair? The white rabbit, he noticed, had
picked up a few strands to admire it.
When I grow up I want hair like
Mums. Pennys, at the moment, was a
grainy blonde.
David nodded and imagineered the rest
of the scene: the doors in the hill; more

hills fading to nothing behind them. Oh

dear, he read, in the character of the
rabbit. (It began to hop about in front of
the doors.) Im late! Im late! And I
dont know which door Im supposed to
take!
Penny giggled. Is Alicia going to help
him?
Mmm, said David, reading on.
Alicia stepped forward. She spoke
politely, with her hands behind her back.
Why dont you take this door? she said,
pointing to the one on the left. Rather
helpfully, a sign appeared upon it saying
THIS.
I can see it, laughed Penny. It was
hanging off the knocker by a piece of
string.
David ran his finger down the text and

continued. The rabbit, who was still in a

fluster, patted its brow with a
handkerchief. Are you sure you dont
mean that door? he asked, aiming his paw
at the door on the right. A sign saying
THAT had now appeared there. No, Im
quite sure I meant that door, Alicia said,
still pointing to her original choice. The
rabbit danced from foot to foot. But thats
THIS, he argued, scratching his nose. I
dont think you know what you mean at
all. You dont know your THIS from your
THAT in my opinion. Hearing this (or was
it that?), Alicia stamped her foot. Oh! she
exclaimed. Ive had quite enough of this
or do I mean that? And to simplify
matters, she marched up to both doors and
turned the signs over. Immediately, the
doors disappeared.

Hhh! gasped Penny, watching them

go. Now whats going to happen? The
rabbit cant get in without a door.
Now look what youve done! David
read on. The rabbit was furious. His
whiskery white cheeks were growing
quite pink.
Hes crossing his ears, look, Penny
said, laughing.
Now well have to use the OTHER
door, it said. And I dont know WHERE
that goes to. Alicia played with a strand
of her hair. Where is the other door? she
asked. The rabbit started to run again. On
the OTHER side of the hill, of course.
Penny clapped as the rabbit hurried up
the hill and over it. Once again, Alicia
went in pursuit. But as they began to come
down the other side, the plain grass gave

way to clustered stones with fine plants

growing in between them. The characters
stumbled to the bottom and looked back at
the slope as they dusted themselves down.
Penny sat up in surprise. Thats Mums
rockery, she said.
Not only that, David noticed, but Alicia
and the rabbit were standing in front of the
arched door he had imagineered there. He
closed the book softly.
Are we finished? asked Penny.
This part isnt in the book, said
David. Shall we see what happens if we
open the door?
Yes, said Penny, breathy with
excitement.
So, after a bit of polite bowing and a
few After yous and No, after yous,
Alicia stepped forward and opened the

door. Into the rockery the characters went.

Immediately, they slipped and lost their
footing and both began to tumble down a
deep, dark well (it made Penny feel a
little queasy to watch it). After what
seemed like a very long fall, they landed
with a bump (thankfully not a splash, for
the well was perfectly dry) at the end of a
rather spooky-looking tunnel. Neither
character was hurt, and the rabbit had
already set off at tremendous speed
towards a window at the far end of the
tunnel. Alicia ran after it as fast as her
kicker boots would take her. She caught
up very quickly but did not overtake, and
for a time it seemed there was no time at
all, and that the characters were running
but not really moving. Then, whether it
was a jolt of Davids imagination or

whether it was real or whether this land of

new wonders they had entered had finally
decided to make itself known to them,
Alicia and the rabbit arrived at the
window and peered through it.
Penny and David leaned forward
instinctively, to see what their characters
could see. It was a bedroom, not at all
unlike their mothers, but the common
features (the bed, the wardrobes, etc.)
were something of a blur in the
background. Alicia and the rabbit were
focused instead on a dressing table right in
front of them. They were standing behind
the table, looking through its mirror.
Look said Penny, her mouth falling
open. She pointed, just like Alicia was
doing.
On the table were three small creatures,

all of which seemed to be solid

sculptures, though David suspected they
were actually quite real. Two of them
were dragons, quite kindly-looking and
nothing like the pictures hed seen in the
books or on the ceilings of the librarium,
though definitely cast in the dragon image.
They had their eyes closed and were
holding paws, as if they were waiting for
something to happen. And yet, intriguing
as these sculptures were, it was the third
one that raised Davids pulse rate a little.
Standing just in front of the dragons was
an elegant creature he had never seen
before and yet he somehow felt he ought to
recognise. In general body shape it was
not unlike Boon, though its legs and neck
were very much longer and its head was
far more graceful than the katts. The

creature was white all over and did not

have a blade of hair upon it, except for a
mane down the back of its neck and an
equally impressive tail. What really drew
Davids attention, however, was the
twisting horn that grew straight out of the
animals forehead. He could see a
familiar pattern on it a wavy three-lined
mark, spiralling outward from its base and
repeating all the way up to the tip. He
jerked back with a sudden realisation. It
was the code hed used to open the door
to Floor 43, the one that translated in
dragontongue as sometimes.
Where is this? said Penny. What are
we looking at?
Another world, David muttered,
thinking about the time rift and his fathers
words about other dimensions and a force

too powerful for David to control. Then,

as if a conduit had somehow opened, the
image of the black firebird entered his
mind and he felt a tremendous pressure in
his head. He fell sideways, holding his
hands to his temples. The book slid off his
lap and clattered to the floor. His body
began to shake as if it was no longer his to
control.
In that instant, Penny screamed.
Alicia and the rabbit had both turned
round and peered back down the tunnel.
Even though the light was poor, something
could be seen flying at tremendous speed
towards them. Bare teeth. Fearsome
talons. A savage eye, perhaps. There was
no real time for detail. The thing was
coming with an awful screech and clearly
intended to do them harm.

David, stop it! Penny wailed. She

was backing up against her headboard as
Alicia was backing up against the mirror.
Then, in a scene that truly was
something from a land of wonder, the
white horned creature tilted its head and a
bolt of violet light passed through the
mirror. It struck, not the beast, but the
shuddering rabbit. Right away, the rabbit
fell down and turned itself into something
new. A strapping white animal with
thickset paws and a body so burly that it
almost filled the width of the tunnel. It
reared up and flashed its paws at the
attacker, which hovered to a halt in front
of this creation, spitting and hissing and
fearful and dark. And there the chapter
ended and the pictures went away. For the
door to Pennys room had suddenly burst

open and David had been pulled off the

bed onto the floor, with a pair of strong
hands cradled round his head.
Let it go. Let it go, the intruder was
saying.
And Penny was squealing, Who are
you? Who are you?
And then Eliza Merriman was there as
well, with calming gestures and reassuring
words. Penny, its all right. He wont
harm David. Hes a friend.
And the man held doggedly onto her
brother until the convulsions had ceased
and he was calm. Only then did the
stranger speak to the girl. Forgive me,
Penny. I had no time to introduce myself.
Who are you? she said again,
drawing up her blanket.
Im a Counsellor and an outlaw, he

said with great charm. My name is

Thorren Strmberg.

9
As a result of the incident in Pennys
room, David once again fell into a deep,
slow sleep, which this time lasted for
approximately two days. He awoke,
peacefully, in his bedroom, with his
anxious mother in a chair at his side and
Boon purring softly on the bed, at his feet.
Eliza was over him at once, feeling his
forehead and gripping his hands. Oh,
thank goodness. Are you all right? How
do you feel? Ive been so worried.
I feel fine, he said, though he looked
a little bleary. He pushed himself upright
against a stack of pillows. His mother
immediately imagineered another.
How long have I been?

Two days. Two and a half. She

poured a glass of water. He drank it down
in one.
Wheres Penny?
Upstairs.
She OK?
Shes fine. Just a little shaken by what
she saw. How much do you remember?
David frowned and shook his head. I
was reading. Thats it. Everything else
isa blur.
Well, Penny remembers, his mother
said. But she refuses to talk about it to
anyone but you. Were you aware that
Counsellor Strmberg was here?
Strmberg? How?
Hed been tracking the movements of
the firebird you saw.
The black one?

Yes. He burst in when he heard Penny

screaming. It was him who calmed your
auma and carried you to bed. He helped
Penny, too, before he left.
Is he coming back?
No. Not here. He says its too
dangerous for him to stay in one place for
too long. He wants you to meet him on
Bushley Common.
When?
Any evening. Just turn up. Hell find
you, he says.
David glanced at the sky. Still light, but
the dusk was closing in. He threw off his
covers and swept out of bed.
David, wait.
He paused, one sock half on.
Please think about this. They might be
watching you.

The Aunts?
Them or their agents. If you go to meet
Strmberg youll be aiding a fugitive. That
might be all theyre waiting for enough
reason to send you the way of your
father.
David continued to dress. If I dont go,
Ill never know what this is all about.
Eliza gripped his arm and made him
look at her. Its about them keeping
control. Thats the way its always been.
The Higher. The Aunts. The Grand
Design. Your ec:centricity frightens
them.
Then thats how Ill defend myself
from them, he said. And he pulled on his
other sock.
Ten minits later he was in the kitchen

when Penny came in and leaned back

against the door frame. She was wearing a
pair of red kicker boots.
Like them? she asked, stretching out a
foot. Mum imagineered them while you
were asleep.
They suit you, he said. Laces untied,
just like Rosas. His heart pinged.
Penny held his gaze a moment and
waited. You dont remember, do you?
Remember what?
She marched across the floor and
dropped Alicia in the Land of Wonder on
the table.
He blinked a couple of times and
picked it up. Oh, yes. The book. Alicia
wore kicker boots.
Penny pulled out a chair. She sat down
with one foot tucked under her bottom.

You were reading this to me and showing

me the characters having an adventure.
Alicia and the rabbit went down a tunnel
and looked through a mirror at another
world.
There were dragons, David muttered,
beginning to remember.
There were lots of things, Penny said.
Were you the rabbit?
Sorry?
I was being Alicia. Were you being
the rabbit?
Probably, he said, not sure where this
was going.
In that case, you were this as well.
From her (pinafore) pocket, she unfolded
a piece of paper and smoothed it out on
her knee. She put it on the table for him to
see. Thats what the rabbit turned into.

David picked it up and carried it round

the kitchen. You drew this?
Yes.
Have you shown it to Mum?
Of course not, silly. What is that
creature? Ive looked, but its not in the
book.
I dont know, he said quietly, folding
the paper. Even though the drawing was
childish and sketchy, there was enough
basic detail to convince him that this was
what hed almost morphed into in the
therapy centre. Can I keep this, Penny?
She nodded. If I can keep the book.
Are you sure you want to?
Mum says youre going away. She
says shell finish the story with me. I dont
think her version will be quite as scary as
yours.

No, it wont, he said, and tousled her

hair. Im sorry I frightened you. Look
after Mum for me. I have to go.
But as he turned towards the door she
suddenly said, I dont want this any
more.
He stopped and looked back. She had
put her black feather down on the table
and was slowly pushing it towards him.
In the tunnel, you were fighting
something.
The firebird you saw?
She lifted her shoulders. It was like a
firebird, but ugly. Horrible.
David picked up the feather and drew it
through his fingers, feeling its sleekness
against his skin. Ill look out for it, he
said. And so will Boon. The katt had
just jumped onto Pennys lap.

Thats two things protecting us, then,

she said. Mums going to make us a
dragon.
Bushley Common was one of only three
places in the district surrounding the
Merrimans home that was still
considered real (sometimes called
natural). It was a long, sprawling piece
of grassland, broken up by walkways and
clusters of trees. Although it was a
beautiful, undisturbed place, most citizens
of Co:pern:ica Central avoided it. It was
generally believed that to be seen walking
in the undeveloped countryside was
indicative of a desire to think
introspectively. And that could attract the
attentions of an Aunt. Or worse, a
Re:mover.

So it seemed an odd place for a

rendezvous, at first. But a plentiful amount
of open space meant that conversations
would not be overhead. And there was
time enough to see any agents
approaching. With those thoughts in mind,
David chose a bench in the centre of the
common, shaded by one small tree. It was
raining lightly and a mist was descending
in grubby grey patches, but visibility was
still good. He sat down and waited.
The first thing to approach him though
was not Thorren Strmberg but a rather
bedraggled black and white katt. Herein
lay a peculiar irony. It was illegal to
imagineer any structure upon the common,
yet it was home to many stray katts. They
survived by procuring the attention of
passers-by. One kind sweep of the hand

could keep a katt constructed for several

days, though many perished due to the
sheer lack of visitors. This one was bold
enough to find its way onto Davids lap
and soak up enough fuss to keep it
maintained for another spin at least. He
was idly tuning in to its grateful purr when
footsteps along the path to his right
announced the arrival of Thorren
Strmberg. The Counsellor sat down
without looking at him. How are you?
he asked.
Wide awake, said David, glancing
over both shoulders. No sign of anyone
behind them.
Strmberg noticed the katt and smiled.
Im glad to hear it. He uncapped a bottle
of water and drank. For a man on the run,
he looked in good shape.

Do you have any news about my

father?
The shock of blonde hair moved freely
in denial. Once youre in the Dead
Lands, youre pretty much cut off.
Will he survive there?
Strmberg gave a confident nod.
Knowing your father, hell probably
thrive. Its only the clever ones, those who
question the way we live, who are sent
into the wilderness. Some say its a better,
more natural way of life, though few are
brought back to tell the tale. You hear
rumours now and then that an uprising
might spring from there, but the real
unease is developing here.
What do you mean?
This is a failing society, David. I
could talk all day about the negative

aspects of imagineering, how its left our

minds lazy and stripped us of all sense of
pride and ambition but thats not the real
issue. Theres a whisper spreading among
those who know that the Aunts are plotting
to overthrow the Higher.
David narrowed his gaze. But no one
really knows what the Higher is, do they?
I was always taught that their fain is so
powerful that they can cloak themselves
and still maintain the Design. How can
you conquer what you cant find?
Strmberg ran his thumb down the
katts right ear. Listen to me carefully,
and dont repeat this to anyone else: Mr
Henry believes that the Higher are based
in the Bushley librarium. He thinks they
might operate through the firebirds.
What? David leaned so far forward

that the katt was almost squashed against

his knees. It hissed (rather loudly) but
didnt jump off.
I know it sounds odd, Strmberg
said, looking off into the middle distance.
But Ive seen enough in that building to
convince me its plausible. Its a place of
great mystery, that no one on Co:pern:ica
has managed to resolve until you came
into my therapy centre.
David threw him a quizzical look.
I saw the story book you were reading
to Penny. That could only have come from
the upper floors. Mr Henry and I have
been trying to get up there for twenty spins
or more. You managed it in a matter of
weeks. How?
David steepled his fingers just below
his nose. There were katt hairs on them.

He blew them aside. There was a code in

a dragon book Rosa showed me.
The one that was dropped on your
chest while you slept?
You know about that?
Yes. From Rosa. Tell me about the
code.
When you flicked through the corners
of the book it formed a sign. When I saw
it, I could read it in dragontongue. Ow!
David glared at the katt. For some reason,
it had just dug its claws into his thigh. He
unhooked the offending paw and said,
We only got as far as Floor 43 before the
firebird that flamed me chased us out. I
took the story book as proof for Mr Henry.
The rest you probably know.
Strmberg rocked forward on the bench
a little. When he spoke again his voice

was bristling with urgency. I want you to

go back to the librarium as soon as you
can and ask Rosa to show you The Book
of Agawin. Its hidden. But shell know
where to find it.
Agawin? Whats that?
Theres no time to explain. The book
is full of symbols. Read them if you can,
then send for me. And David, be careful.
That book is the oldest thing in the
building. We think it might tell the whole
history of Co:pern:ica and of dragons.
It was growing cold now and the mist
was thickening. David thrust his hands
into his jacket pockets and found Pennys
gifts in them. He took out the drawing.
What do you make of that?
Strmberg ran his fingers over the
paper. Where did you get this?

From Penny. She drew it. I was

imagineering story characters for her and
my adopted character turned into that
creature. It was fighting a grotesque
version of whatever dropped this. He
brought out the feather.
Strmberg turned it between his hands.
I saw a black firebird flying away from
the debris of your fathers experiment. I
traced it here on a hunch that it might be
looking for you. Youre saying it broke
into your consciousness a firebird?
David nodded. Dad left me a film of
what happened in the lab. I studied it
carefully on his com:puter. I think
something came through the time rift.
Something with powerful fain that invaded
a normal-coloured firebird and turned it
black.

Then we must be careful, Strmberg

said. If thats correct, were dealing with
an unknown threat as well as the Aunts.
Theres no time to lose. Get to the
librarium tonight, if you can. Hide there
if you need to. And find that book.
What about you?
Dont worry about me. I wont be far
away. When you need me, Ill be there.
Just use your fain. The counsellor stood
up and offered his hand.
David shook it firmly. Is there any
chance you can find out where they took
my father?
Ill work on it, Strmberg promised.
Go carefully, David. And with that he
pulled his collar to and walked into the
mist.
As David watched him go, he thought

about calling a taxicar. But remembering

he shouldnt use his fain on the common,
he stood up, placed the katt on the bench
and got ready to walk in the opposite
direction.
He had taken just two short strides
when he was stopped by a tiny miaow.
The katt had settled in a moody huddle
with its paws tucked underneath itself,
staring straight ahead in that odd glazed
fashion so familiar to their kind. The ends
of its fur were glistening with moisture.
Sorry, David said. Cant take you
with me. You wont be appreciated where
Im going. He waved goodbye and set off
along the path.
With a soft thump of paws the katt
jumped down and trotted up beside him.
No, David said. He picked it up and

carried it back to the bench. You mustnt

follow me. You have to stay here. He
plonked it down again and wagged a
finger, then hurried off at twice his
previous pace.
He was swallowed in the mist when the
katt moved again. Well, of course Ill
frighten the birds, it said. But by then
David was out of earshot. And the katt had
morphed into its true shape.
The Aunt Su:perior.
Gwyneth.

10
Around the same time that David was
meeting Penny and trying to settle in again
at home, Rosa was discovering the harsh
reality of life in the Bushley Librarium
without him. Her keepers, the twin Aunts
Primrose and Petunia, took not a shred of
interest in her and didnt care if she
organised the books or not. What mattered
to them was cleanliness. For this reason
they did want the books picked up, but
only so the floors could be cleared for
scrubbing. Within hours of Davids
departure, Rosa found herself down on her
knees with a bucket of water and a manky
brush, preparing a room that the Aunts
could sleep in. She was made to go over it

three times at least, until Aunt Primrose

was satisfied. As if that wasnt enough,
Aunt Petunia complained endlessly about
the cold. There were shutters on some of
the windows, of course, but Mr Henry had
never wanted them closed, and neither
David nor Rosa had ever experienced
what the curator affectionately called
goosebumps on their skin. (Strangely,
they never did question the etymology of
this word.) But Aunt Petunia was
different. On the first day, she imagineered
a thick grey coat and a scarf which
wrapped three times around her neck and
overflowed down her starchy back.
Maroon gloves came next, to match her
crooked bow tie. Then a hat with buttondown flaps for the ears. And she insisted
that the window of the room be blocked.

Not closed. Blocked. To Rosas

annoyance there were no shutters on the
window in the room they had chosen, the
one that she had so diligently cleaned. Yet
when she offered to prepare the Aunts a
better room, one with tight-fitting shutters
and a lovely view of the daisy fields,
which even had a southerly aspect to it (to
pick up the heat of the sun in the
mornings), they refused and said they
would stay where they were, near the
ground floor, well away from those
irritating birds. And when Rosa rather
rashly stamped her foot and asked, What,
pray, should she block the window with?
the twins exchanged a wicked smile. The
books, they said in chilling unison. The
books.
With no choice but to do as she was

told, Rosa set about piling books into the

window space to form a barrier against
the wind. (This also shut out the light,
though both Aunts favoured imagineered
lighting anyway.) With every book she
added, Rosa could feel the building
resisting. It would move slightly and make
the books topple, just as she was
completing a stack. Or when she turned
her back in search of a book she was sure
would fit into a particular space, she
would return to find the dimensions of the
hole compressed. Only when she cried
out, Stop it! Stop it! I dont want this any
more than you do! did it give in and let
her complete her task. Even then there
were gaps and the Aunts complained of
draughts. I cant help that, Rosa
protested. The books alone were never

going to make for a perfect fit. But Aunt

Primrose had a most hideous solution. The
nasty old woman did no more than snatch
up a book, tear out several pages and stuff
the gaps at the window with crumpled
paper. Rosa ran from the room in tears,
the Aunts laughter chasing her through the
building.
In time, the twins did tire of such
cruelty and began to leave Rosa to her
own devices. She could be alone, she was
told, but she could not hide. This she knew
all too well, of course. She remembered
the ease with which Aunt Gwyneth had
tracked her down on Floor 42.
Oh, Floor 42. On several occasions,
Rosa had stood outside the door there,
trying in vain to replicate the
dragontongue David had used to open it. If

there was any kind of sanctuary from this

madness it was going to be found higher
up the building, surely? But the door just
would not open for her. And fearful that
the Aunts would catch her there and quiz
her and maybe breach the upper floors
themselves (the idea simply mortified
her), she gave up and confined herself to
her own company. Hours she spent,
barefoot in a window recess, knees drawn
up to her graceful chin, staring helplessly
at the horizon, always wondering if she
dared run away, not knowing where she
would go to if she did, knowing in her
heart that the building needed her,
remembering her happiness when she was
twelve, remembering Mr Henry and the
undemanding joy of ordering the books,
remembering the rain that had ceased to

fall ever since David had gone away.

She tried very hard not to think about
David.
It truly was a miserable time,
compounded by the feeling that even
Runcey had deserted her. She had not seen
the lovely green firebird for days and had
started to wonder if the birds had actually
abandoned the eyrie following the death of
Mr Henry. But this was not so.
Unbeknown to Rosa, Runcey had been to
see her. Whats more, he had not come
alone. Aleron (to give him his proper
name), along with Aurielle and the grumpy
Azkiar, had visited her hammock one night
during sleep. They were there to verify
Azkiars claim that an image of Rosa was
stitched on the Tapestry of Isenfier.
By the light of the strong Co:pern:ican

moon, they had examined and measured

and recorded her face. When Aurielle saw
the changes in Rosa, she was stunned. Yet,
she was not convinced. For of the two
humans shown on that part of the tapestry,
the womans features were the harder to
distinguish. In the picture, David and
Rosa were kneeling and he was holding
her head to his chest, protecting her from
the Shadow of Ix. Only half the womans
face could truly be seen. But the hair, the
eyes, the shape of the head, the long
slender arms. It did look a positive match.
There was only one problem. The mark,
Aurielle said to the other two birds. She
doesnt have the sign of Agawin on her
arm. In the tapestry, the three-lined mark
(the one Rosa had discovered in the
dragon book) was clearly visible on the

girls arm. It was one of the most potent

signs on the whole picture. For it not to be
present on Rosas skin left serious holes
in Azkiars theory. Azkiar puffed his
feathers out and said Aurielle was simply
making excuses. The humans had got
through the door, he reminded her. But
Aurielle refused to be swayed. The girl
was inconclusive, she said. The only way
to be sure was to check on the grown-up
David as well.
But that would not be easy now that
David had left. Yes, they could seek him
out well enough; few humans (construct or
real) possessed an auma trail like his. But
if they went to him, together, in a less
secure environment, it might cause
problems. Aurielle drummed her claws in
annoyance. Why, she wanted to know, had

the boy been dismissed from the building

in the first place when the books had
clearly warmed to him so? Aleron, whod
been carefully observing the situation
downstairs, said it was the work of Aunts,
two of whom had been installed in place
of the old curator. Azkiar made a sound
like Aurielles knee joints. He didnt like
Aunts. Hed crossed paths with them
before. Theyre going to be trouble , he
said. Aurielle, looking at the moon through
Rosas window, agreed. Over the last few
days it had not been difficult to sense a
decline in the general intensity of auma in
the eyrie. Some of it was due to the loss of
the curator, though his spirit still floated
over the daisies. But there was also a
crippling moodiness present that seemed
to be leeching right out of the stones. And

in all this time, the rain had not fallen.

And that was very wrong indeed.
Aurielle folded her wings and assessed
the situation. A mysterious time shift, two
intriguing humans, and an egg that was not
of the firebirds making. And still no one
had seen Aubrey. She glanced at the
sleeping Rosa. And here was plausible
evidence that the story of the Isenfier
tapestry was unfolding. Something must be
done. Guidance must be sought. There was
nothing else for it.
She must speak with the Higher.

11
Up a hundred floors she flew that night. A
hundred? Well, that was just a token
number. No firebird had ever really taken
the trouble to measure how many floors
there were between the designated cut-off
point for humans and the great glass dome
at the top of the librarium. The count
would not have meant much anyway. For
to reach the roof (and this is what humans
did not understand) it was not so much a
question of how far one travelled, more of
how much one needed to get there.
So it came to pass that after some time,
Aurielle set down on the circular balcony
that ran around the whole circumference
of the dome. The dome was surrounded by

thick cloud, as always, but the air was

calm with no hint of a chill. This close in,
it was easy to spot an open window,
which was the only requirement necessary
for a firebird to gain entry. Aurielle
selected one and flew straight in, pulling it
to as tradition dictated. (Such an annoying
task when all you had was feet!) But it
was the custom and that was all that
mattered. Before shed finished fixing the
latch, a hushed voice swept into the centre
of her mind. Hello, Aurielle, it said.
It always made her feathers shake, the
nature of that voice. Despite the dizzy
height she was at, there was nothing
particularly lofty about it. It was gentle
and caring and really rather welcoming.
She had tried to describe it to Azkiar once
(who had always shied away from coming

up here for fear that hed pass out in the

watery air and kill a thousand daisies in
his plummet back to ground). Like a wind
from another world, she called it,
because no matter where she hovered or
tumbled or flew she could always hear the
voice, all around her, like a whisper.
Yet she had never seen what produced
it.
(That, she suspected, was the real
reason Azkiar never went near the roof.)
Apart from the billions of tiny fire stars
that twinkled on and off, off and on, in the
dome, only once had Aurielle seen
anything here. Strangely, that had been on
the last occasion when shed gone to
report on the time rift the firebirds had
sealed above David. As shed entered
through her chosen window, she had seen

what shed thought was a length of ribbon,

twisting and curling in the glittering space.
But when shed followed its movements
closely, she had seen that it was, in fact,
some kind of object, shaped like a slender
tube. The only thing she could equate it to
was a fragment of bone. It was half the
span of her knees to her toes and etched
with a number of unusual marks. As it
twizzled it produced three uniform
contrails, which eerily reminded her of the
ancient symbol that opened the door to
Floor 43. But what would a piece of bone
be doing here? She had asked herself that
many times of late. It made no sense. No
sense at all.
She was thinking of this when the voice
of the Higher invited her to join them.
Spreading her glorious cream-coloured

wings, she closed her eyes and launched

herself towards the stars, into the sensory
matrix the Higher called the Is. To be in
the Is was just like flying without wings.
(In fact, spreading her wings had no effect
on her movements, it simply felt more
natural to do it.) She knew she would
never fall within the Is, but simply float
where the power of the Higher wished to
take her. The more she let go of what she
knew about flight, the better the
experience became.
In the Is, there was no need for speech
(though the movement of the mouth, like
the movement of the wings, always felt
more appropriate). All Aurielle had to do
to communicate was be. For the Higher
knew precisely what was in her mind from
the very first moment she entered the

dome. They knew what shed discovered

on the floors downstairs. They knew of
her concerns about the future of the books.
They acknowledged her excitement about
the Tapestry of Isenfier . And in that one
full moment of knowing, they also
considered all the probable outcomes
which might arise from those discoveries
and concerns. And this is how they
responded to her: Aurielle, what will be,
will be.
With a whoosh, they swept her to the
top of the dome as her concentration
lapsed into fragments of worry. Do not
be concerned by these developments,
they soothed her. The Higher will always
seek order in the eyrie. When there is
order in the eyrie, there is order in the
world. Whatever actions you take to aid

our task will always be correct. This is a

result of your purity of spirit.
There was a time shift, she
commingled, relaxing a little.
The Higher let her spiral down within
the Is. We are aware of this, they said.
You were not at fault. We allowed it to
happen.
Aurielle felt herself roll. May I know
why?
There was a pause. They let her glide
for a moment. Isenfier is upon us, they
said.
Whoosh! That made poor Aurielle
plummet as her mind grew heavy with a
daisy field of questions. Once again the Is
was there to support her. As she calmed,
she rose again.
She is coming, they said.

She? said Aurielle.

You are tending Her closely.
The egg on the table.
Yes, said the Higher, reading her
thoughts. She will lead you to Isenfier.
David will prepare the way.
Then its him? said Aurielle, thinking
of the tapestry.
Aurielle, you always knew, they said.
Aurielle gulped. She found herself
floating motionless now. Yes, in her heart,
she had always believed that the boy was
special. Trust your intuitions, the Higher
had always taught her. Intuitions, they
said, were the future calling.
Daringly, she opened her eyes. The
strange fragment of bone was dancing
about her, looping her body in figures of
eight, wrapping her in its lengthy trails.

The sun was shining through a parting in

the clouds, making all the fire stars dance.
And the rain was falling. The rain was
back, making a rainbow over the dome.
Suddenly, Aurielle knew what she must
do. I must find him, she said. I must
drive out the Aunts and bring David
back.
He will be the new curator, they said.
The rainbow illuminated Aurielles
heart. She soared. Courage flooded her
breast. She would need it, for the Highers
next words were a caution: We have only
one warning.
Oh. Aurielle faltered a little.
Beware the thread, they whispered.
Thread? she commingled.
Of time, they said. The thread of
time.

Aurielle twizzled her ear tufts a little.

But the birds are the guardians of time,
she said. Hadnt this always been so?
That is your vulnerability, they
warned her. But only She can decide the
final outcome.
She. There was a pause. The fire stars
blinked. Is She like us? A bird from an
egg?
She is what you see on the tapestry,
they said.
A girl, dressed in white.
Yes, said the Higher.
And you? Aurielle asked rather
boldly. She had floated this question in
her mind many times and the Higher had
always let it do that float. Now, Aurielle
pressed for an answer. At last the Higher
replied.

We are Fain, they said.

Aurielle drew a breath and looked all
about her. Pure fain? No physical body?
We are everything and no thing, the
Higher whispered.
The piece of bone twizzled as it
whipped past her face. It was starting to
make her go cross-eyed now. This is
s o m e thing, she gulped. But what
exactly?
The Higher paused before replying.
This is your possible future, they said.
My? Im going to be a piece of
bone? she thought.
This is an agent of the universe, they
said.
Oh, thought Aurielle. That was better.
This is not its true form.
May I see its true form?

There was a humming sound within the

Is. It can only be a moment, a shimmer in
time. It will be here but not here. Seen but
not seen.
I understand, said Aurielle. A
glimpse was all she wanted.
A glimpse was all she got. Right before
her eyes, the bone stopped moving and
physically changed shape. It happened so
quickly that she almost sneezed and blew
the apparition to the far side of the dome.
But there, so faintly trans:lucent that it was
almost lost amongst the pulsing stars,
Aurielle saw a hint of how her kind would
evolve. Not into larger birds. Not even
into dragons. But a creature somewhere
between the two. The image was there in a
blink and gone. She barely had time to
take it all in. But the one thing she couldnt

fail to notice was a feature she had always

envied in dragons. A physiological
improvement on the firebird anatomy that
filled her with the greatest excitement
ever. She paddled her feet in the Is and
was joyous.
Someday, firebirds were going to have
paws.

12
One thing Aleron had not explained to
Aurielle during their conversation about
Rosa was how the Aunts were treating the
books. Thankfully, he had not been there
to witness Aunt Primrose savagely tearing
out random pages, but he had found the
shocking results of her wickedness when
hed flown by the blocked up window
space. What a terrible thing it was for a
caring firebird to register the distress of
ripped up words, crumpled in their paper,
dying and forgotten. Hed found a ball of
that paper lying on the ground at the edge
of the daisy bed and had straightened it out
as best he could. But it was never going to
be as clean and sharp as the day the words

had been put onto the page. There, in those

wrinkles, was the sadness of the eyrie in
microcosm. Aleron had burned it, to
relieve it of its suffering, and blown the
ashes over the daisy fields. One shred of
paper, at least, was at peace. But the
books could not tolerate much more stress.
Rosa had been coming to that same
conclusion. She too was not immune to the
sadness around her, but had so far sat back
and done nothing about it. But as time
went by and the librariums mourning
seemed to be growing worse, she began to
wonder what the Aunts were up to. To her
relief, they had not gone round the
building wrecking shelves or tearing
down books. She was grateful for that, but
she was still suspicious. They had
practically ignored her since that first day

of scrubbing and had kept themselves

confined to the room she had cleaned.
What, then, was the nature of their
re:assessment? What could they assess
from one small part of a building as huge
as this?
On the third day, curiosity got the better
of her and she crept downstairs to
investigate. Most rooms in the librarium
had no doors, and those that did were
rarely closed. The Aunts door was not
only closed but had a large KEEP OUT
sign hanging off the door knob. For the
first time, it occurred to Rosa that the
blocking of the window had nothing to do
with draughts or cold. The Aunts just did
not want to be seen. She stooped down
and put her eye to the keyhole. It was
stuffed with paper. She raised her fist to

knock, then thought better of it; if they

were this keen on secrecy they werent
going to let her in on a whim. Politeness,
then, was not an option. But how could
she, a girl with no fain, possibly distract
two powerful Aunts?
She took the problem to her hammock
that night. As she tossed and turned
between half-sleep and worry, her mind
seemed to fly around the walls of the
librarium as if she was spinning on a
carousel of books. For the first time in her
life, she realised she was dreaming. Or
was it that the building was leading her
somewhere? It had done this many times
in her waking life, but that had always
been in response to her intent. This time
the intent seemed to be that of the building.
And so it proved to be. In the middle of

the night, with the moon outside her

window, she woke with a start, swung out
of her hammock and started to run. She
arrived breathless in a room on Floor 11
and skirted the shelves, almost tearing
down the books until she found the volume
she was looking for the title the building
had put into her mind: The Properties of
Mushrooms.
Mushrooms. She had heard Mr Henry
say something disparaging about these
things once. How they were prisoners of
the dark and grew in damp corners in the
muggy cellars beneath the librarium, only
fit for consumption by Aunts, who
couldnt get enough of the horrid things,
apparently. Rosa had been very young at
the time and had not understood this little
rant, but she had taken note of it. Aunts

liked mushrooms. And now here she was

with a strange book about them and two
scheming Aunts in a room downstairs. But
what did the building want her to do? As
if it sensed her confusion, a sudden breeze
swept through the room, rapidly turning
the pages of the book. Three firebirds
(Runcey being one) had just flown in.
They looked at Rosa and she at them.
You too, huh? she said, knowing full
well theyd been drawn here, as she had.
She glanced at the open book. On the page
was a glossy digi:graf of a basket made
from woven grass. In it were a number of
strange grey objects with spongy stalks
and purple spots on their rounded caps.
Rosa read the caption beneath. Purple
spotted mushrooms are edible , but will
induce drowsiness if eaten in quantity.

She smiled and patted the librarium wall.

Suddenly, a plan had formed in her mind.
These. Where will I find some? she
said. She turned the book around and
showed it to the birds. They looked at one
another and exchanged a few rrrhs.
Tonight, she said, tapping it. It has to
be tonight.
The following morning, Rosa returned to
the Aunts room carrying a tray. On it was
a pie, oozing tails of steam from a cross in
the centre of its pastry crust. Beside the
pie were two large spoons.
She knocked on the door.
Predictably, a voice said, Go away.
Its Rosa, Aunts.
We know who it is.
Im sorry for my absence. I want to

make it up to you.
We dont need you. Were busy in
here.
I thought you might be hungry. Ive
cooked something for you.
G o away, girl. We can imagineer
anything we want.
Rosa chewed her lip. Not for the first
time, she wondered about the wisdom of
what she was doing. If it all went wrong,
the consequences would be dire. She
steadied herself. Brave. She must be
brave. Its mushrooms, real ones, baked
in a pie.
There was silence on the other side of
the door. Mushrooms? said a voice.
One Aunt to the other.
They growermat the back of the
librarium. Ive had some myself. Theyre

very
The door whipped open a crack.
tasty.
Aunt Petunias dark gaze scanned the
tray. It is a pie, she hissed back over her
shoulder.
I can smell it, said Primrose.
Aunt Petunias nose began to twitch.
Rosa could swear that the old womans
bow tie was trying to spin.
Bring it in, said Primrose.
Not you, said Petunia, extending a
forbidding hand towards Rosa. Give me
the tray and be gone from here, girl. You
can pick it up later and then clean the dish
twice.
Rosa held the tray out. Do you need
any help? What exactly are you doing in
there, Aunt?

None of your business, the old

woman snapped. And she snatched up the
tray and forced the door shut.
Rosa stared at the blank brown door for
a moment. That hadnt gone quite the way
shed hoped, but the Aunts had taken the
bait nevertheless. She wiped her palms,
one across the other. Enjoy, she
whispered with a smug little grin. And
gathering her skirts about her knees, she
went and sat primly on the stairs.
In the shadows behind her, the firebirds
waited.
For several minutes they listened to the
greedy clink of spoons. Then there came a
loud, rather crude spell of burping. Then a
brief spell of silence. Then the most
hideous, laboured snoring, so potent that it
made a loose board on the stairway hum.

I think thats done the trick, Rosa

said, jumping up. OK, guys, how do we
get in?
If she was expecting that the birds
would speak some kind of dragontongue
and open the door in the way David had
done upstairs, she was wrong. This one
was locked by a regular key. The only
way in was via the window. Aleron
reached it first and began to pluck out the
pieces of paper. But this was all taking
too long for Azkiar. With a loud and
impatient RRRH! he ordered Aleron out of
the way, then launched himself, feet first,
at the wall of books. He hit them at
tremendous speed. With a bang, they
collapsed inwards. Rosa ran forward and
cleared the remainder, then climbed
through the window and into the room.

The Aunts were laid out in the middle

of the floor, each with a spoon in hand.
The pie dish was on its side and empty.
Apart from that, there seemed to be
nothing amiss. The books were mostly in
place on the shelves. And though theyd
been moved around or laid down flat, they
did not appear to be damaged in any way.
What are they doing? Rosa muttered
to herself. It occurred to her then that the
Aunts might have simply been reading the
books and that she had misjudged their
intentions horribly. If that was the case, oh
what a trial she had to look forward to.
Knocking out a pair of Aunts for no reason
was sure to see her banished to the Dead
Lands for life.
Rrrh, went a voice across the room.
Aurielle had landed on a bed in the

corner, where she had found some kind of

flashing device. Rosa made her way over,
stepping across the legs of both Aunts to
get there. (Azkiar and Aleron were
perched on the Aunts chests, guarding the
women, their ear tufts lifting every time
the Aunts snored.)
Aurielle nudged the device with her
beak. It was a thin, flat pad, about half the
size again of a standard book cover. It had
a sleek black screen, which appeared to
have a number of thumbprints on its
surface. Flashing lights were jumping
back and forth across the bottom, as if the
device was waiting for an input. Rosa had
never troubled herself with elec:tronics
and hadnt sent a single :com in her life.
Even so, she picked up the pad and
pressed her finger to a likely area of the

screen. It lit up at once. A message invited

her to Scan Object. She looked at
Aurielle. The firebird frowned. Object?
thought Rosa. What object? And then it
struck her: the books, of course. She
picked one off the bed and slowly brought
it into contact with the pad. To her horror,
the pad came alive. Numbers. Lights.
Menus. Colour. They all appeared on the
screen at once. At its centre was a
window more active than the rest. And
though the data stream was moving far too
quickly to gauge what it was, Rosa was
sure that the device was uploading the
contents of the book. A great wave of
anger rose inside her. But worse was to
come. For that was not the end of the
process. Suddenly, the pad gave a little
beep and a new question appeared on the

screen:

Rosa pulled the book away in an

instant. The device immediately asked if
she wanted to cancel the procedure. She
screamed and hurled it across the room,
then ran to the nearest shelf of books. She
pulled one down and opened it. For one
moment nothing happened. But as she
tilted the book, the full stops, the commas,
the question marks, and eventually the
words themselves all began to slip from
their places on the page until they were
falling like ash around her feet.
No, she wailed. She sank to her
knees, clutching the book to her heart.
They were dead, all of them. She knew
it at once. Their auma taken. Their power

destroyed.
Rrrh! went Azkiar, urgent and loud.
Rosa looked tearfully over her
shoulder. The Aunts were waking. She
narrowed her gaze.
Good.

13
Aunt Petunia came round to find Rosa
sitting astride her chest.
OK, heres the drill, said the girl.
Dont try to move or use your fain. Your
sister is laid out right beside you, but
shes got a nice big angry firebird perched
on top of her to keep her company. Ive
seen him in action. Believe me, hes mean.
Im sure you know theyre immune to your
tricks. One hint of imagineering and hell
turn poor Primrose to ash. Are we clear?
You will die for this, Aunt Petunia
growled, fury reddening her swollen
cheeks. Primrose, dear, are you all
right?
Shoes, the twin Aunt squeaked.

Shoes? Petunia rolled her eyes

sideways. She was slightly surprised to
see her sisters feet, not her head, beside
her. Whats more, the feet were bare.
What deplorable villainy is this?
Rosa gripped the Aunts chin and
pulled her back. I hope you wont have to
find out. Now, what exactly are you doing
in this room?
Its none of your business, Petunia
snapped.
Rosa curled her lip. Runcey, she
said, and sent him a tongue click.
The green firebird stepped forward. In
his beak was a feather, plucked from his
tail.
Whats that thing doing? Aunt Petunia
said, anxiously rolling her eyes again.
On a nod from Rosa, the firebird

dipped his head and dragged the feather

over Primroses feet.
Aunt Primrose screeched. Her bare toes
danced. Her feet clapped together like
shutters in a storm. Even Aunt Petunia
made an o with her mouth and let out a
kind of whistling noise.
Oh yes, of course, youre twins, Rosa
said. You feel each others discomfort,
dont you? She leaned down and looked
Aunt Petunia dead in the eye. Confess
and Ill let you leave. Or twinny, here,
feels my feathered friends wrath. Its
probably worse if he turns the feather
round and scratches the skin with the point
of the shaft.
Confess! cried Primrose.
Be silent, Primrose. Ill deal with
this. Petunia tightened her immaculate

eyebrows. Youve nothing to gain by

threatening us, girl.
Oh, really? said Rosa. In a flash, she
had snatched up Petunias bow tie. To her
amusement, it was held in place by
elastic. She pulled it as far from the neck
as it would stretch. This is my home.
These books are my family. Im not going
to see your kind destroy them.
Not the tie, Aunt Petunia begged.
Whats she doing? echoed Primrose.
What is the wicked girl doing with your
tie?
Dont make me let go of this, Rosa
warned. For good measure, she twisted it
once.
All right! Aunt Petunias grey eyes
bulged.
Rosa relaxed and let the tie sag back,

only letting go when it was just off the

neck. It snapped to, making both Aunts
gurgle. I strongly advise you to speak the
truth.
You were told the truth, Aunt Petunia
said. We were sent to assess the
building. Thats it.
You were sent to steal its auma.
Why?
What use is all that auma here? piped
Primrose.
Shut up, Primrose!
Its all right for you, the twin called
out. Youve still got your shoes and
socks.
Well? said Rosa, threatening to play
with the tie again.
Primrose is right, Petunia said. This
building is an untapped auma source. It

has infinitely more than any other structure

on Co:pern:ica. Its energy is wasted. The
Aunts could put it to much better use.
One Aunt, you mean.
Petunia wiggled her nose. Are you
implying something about Aunt Gwyneth?
You trust her?
Of course. Shes an Aunt Su:perior.
Shes a vile witch.
You
Ah ah. Rosa wagged a warning
finger.
Suddenly, Primrose started to sniff.
Whats that GHASTLY smell?
Rosa glanced over her shoulder at
Azkiar. I believe hes just urinated on
you, Aunt.
Ugh! cried both the sisters at once.
Aunt Petunia scraped her nails on the

floor.
Tell me about the pad, said Rosa.
Across the room, Aurielle was standing
over the device, consumed in
concentration. She kept picking up one of
her feet now and then as if she was
thinking of touching the screen. Despite
the impact it had suffered from the throw,
it was still blinking steadily.
Aunt Petunia sneered. A simpleton like
you couldnt hope to understand the
complexity of its functions.
Wrong answer, said Rosa. She
clicked her tongue.
No! Aunt Primrose wailed. Her heels
beat a loud tattoo on the floor.
All right, stop this! Petunia growled.
Ill tell you what you want to know.
Rosa clicked again and Aleron backed

off.
The pad absorbs auma and stores it in
cumulative energy cells.
Again, in Rosa-speak, if its not too
much trouble.
It takes the power of each book and
adds it to the last.
How many have you done?
Aunt Petunia breathed in. This room is
almost complete.
Rosa allowed herself a glance at the
shelves. What happens to the auma
youve gathered?
That is for the Aunt Su:perior to
decide.
I bet it is, Rosa said, gritting her
teeth. Tell me how you reverse the
process.
You cant, shouted Primrose.

Be
quiet,
Primrose.
Im
concentrating.
There was something not right about
that remark, but Rosa rather foolishly let it
pass. Is she lying? she snarled. The
woman stared deep into Rosas eyes, as if
she was scanning her for some kind of
weakness. I said, is she lying? Rosa
demanded. And grasping not only the tie
but the collar, she lifted Aunt Petunias
head off the floor.
No, the Aunt snapped. The books
have only low-level consciousness.
Theyre not able to accept a contrary
input. They would return as nonsense, a
jumble of marks. I should warn you, girl,
the pad is extremely dangerous. Think
about that before you do something
foolish.

Rosa glanced at Aurielle again. The

firebird was cautiously tapping the screen.
Ill take my chances, she said. What
can be done with the auma thats stored?
That stare again.
Rosa tightened her grip.
It can only be transferred.
To what?
To anything if you know what youre
doing.
What does Aunt Gwyneth want with
it?
Aunt Petunia closed her eyes.
Answer me, you freak. What would
she do with the auma from this building?
Aunt Petunias eyes flickered open. Her
face had a strangely confident look.
Shed use it to take control, I imagine. So
the Aunts could rule over all Co:pern:ica,

without being bound by limits or the

Higher. She flicked her gaze sideways.
From the direction of the window a voice
said, Rosa?
David? Rosa gasped, and turned to
look.
That was her undoing.
In the moment it took to realise shed
been tricked, Rosas hold on Aunt Petunia
was gone. With a strength well beyond the
composition of her body, the old woman
shifted her weight and threw Rosa across
the floor, into an upright between two
shelves. At exactly the same moment,
guided by her twins tele:pathic impulse,
Aunt Primrose raised her hands and
stabbed her fingernails into the soft tissue
under Azkiars beak. The red firebird
squawked in rage. He lifted off and let out

a bolt of fire. It missed Aunt Primrose

(shed been quick to roll away) but
swallowed up one of the books. The book
exploded in a shower of ceiling-high
sparks, igniting a therma:sol sheet on the
bed. Within seconds, the bed was a raft of
fire.
Aurielle, watching this, had difficult
choices. Azkiar wounded. Rosa winded.
The threat of fire raging through the eyrie,
already too wild for three birds to contain.
Rrrh! she cried urgently to Aleron. But the
green firebird was already flying. With a
whoosh he was through the window, away
to bring help from the rest of the flock.
Suddenly, Aurielle found herself caged.
The bars had simply appeared from
nowhere. It took her just a fraction of a
sec to realise it was a temporary

construct, created by one of the Aunts. As

such it had no control over her. But to be
able to pass through it and therefore
escape, she needed to lock her geo:centric
sensors onto a stationary part of the image.
Rather cleverly, the twins had made the
bars revolve. And the cage itself was
turning in the opposite direction from the
bars. It was impossible to get a fix.
Aurielle looked in hope at Azkiar. But he
was likewise trapped. Aunt Primrose had
made certain he would suffer by wrapping
his head in a tight metal helmet that
clamped his beak shut and clanked loudly
every time he crashed against the bars.
Their only chance was Rosa. She was
on her feet, clutching her ribs low down.
In one hand she held the auma pad. She
saw Aunt Petunias eyes flick to it. Let

the birds go or this gets toasted.

Aunt Petunia smiled.
I mean it, Rosa shouted, finding it
hard to breathe through the heat.
Aunt Primrose came to stand beside her
sister. Behind them, a lick of flame roared
up the wall, igniting another column of
books. Eerily, they both held out a hand.
Never, said Rosa, and hurled the pad
over them. It was half a sec away from
hitting the bed when it stopped in mid-air
and rose again. The twins had captured it,
using their fain.
Rosa screamed and launched herself at
them.
Sadly, her petulance was short-lived
and foolish. Aunt Petunia, always the
quicker of the pair, grasped the girls
forearm and used her momentum to twist

her to her knees. At the same time she

gouged three scars into her flesh, drawing
up three hot streams of blood.
For Rosa, the pain was horrendous. Her
mouth opened, but she fainted in absolute
silence.
Oh, dearest, how could you?
Primrose said. Now youve got her
blood on the ruff of your sleeve. Youll
have to imagineer a brand new blouse.
Shall I finish her?
The auma pad dropped into Primroses
hands. I think the fire will do that. Time
we were going.
Aunt Petunia let go of Rosas arm. The
girl slumped to a heap on the floor. But
just when it seemed that the balance of
power was firmly with the Aunts, the
auma pad started beeping loudly.

Whats that? said Petunia, focusing

her irritated gaze on the device.
II dont understand, her sister
stammered.
What dont you understand? Petunia
said impatiently.
Aunt Primrose ran her thumbs across
the screen. The pads been set to
discharge.
Impossible. Only an Aunt could know
the encryption code for that.
Im telling you, Petunia, its about to
unload every shred of auma weve
gathered. And I cant override it.
Aunt Petunia stiffened her spine. Have
you betrayed me, Primrose?
Of course not, twin.
Then how has it been primed?
Dear, I dont know.

Well, the girl couldnt do it.

Then it has to be Both Aunts stared
suspiciously at Aurielle.
Thats ridiculous, said Petunia.
Give it to me. She made a move to
snatch the pad from her sisters grasp.
Primrose held it out to one side. Why
should you have it?
Because Im senior.
One micro:sec between our births
doesnt make you any better than me!
But I am, dear Primrose. Im perfect.
Im Petunia. You cant even set your tie
straight.
You want the auma for yourself. Well,
you shant have it!
I shall!
You shant!
And for once, Aunt Primrose was

absolutely right. With a burst of light as

powerful as the flames around them, the
pad lit up and a visible ribbon of violet
energy flowed out of it. But it did not go to
either of the squabbling Aunts. It flew
around them both and in between the cages
and dissolved into the wound on Rosas
arm. Her head jerked violently as if
something had bitten her. And though she
did not wake, the wound began to burn
with a blue-white flame.
What have you done? coughed
Primrose, backing away.
What do you mean, what have I done?
Look at her arm, at the marks you
gouged. Youve branded her with the
symbol of Agawin.
Aunt Petunia shook her head in fear and
confusion. She let the auma pad fall from

her hand.
Run, dear, said Primrose. Weve got
to run away. She hurried to the door,
pulling her sister with her. Such was their
haste that her foot struck the auma pad and
knocked it under the burning bed. But it
mattered nought to the Aunts any more.
They had failed. The only thing now was
escape. Primrose unlocked the door and
dragged her sister out.
Almost immediately, two things
happened. The cages surrounding Aurielle
and Azkiar de:constructed as quickly as
theyd formed. Both birds were now free,
but too dizzy to fly. To Aurielles relief,
she heard wingbeats through the crackling
flames. She looked up expecting to see a
host of firebirds coming through the
window to quench the fire. But only one

had landed on the sill. Her heart rate

tripled and her ear tufts rose. Aubrey? she
said. The bird in the window had his
features, but there was something horribly
wrong about it. There was no colour in the
feathers. No kindness in the eyes. And
why was there a line of fresh green blood
congealing around the ruff of the neck?
Suddenly, it twisted its head to one
side, clearly aware of something coming.
Only then did Aurielle see that it was
carrying an item in its beak. It looked as if
it might be a nesting twig, but she was too
far away to be sure. The bird was gone
before she could decide. And after two or
three secs of empty sky, David Merriman
scrabbled through the window.
Rosa! he yelled. He came powering
across the floor, using his arm to shield

his face from the flames. He didnt even

look at Azkiar and Aurielle as he dropped
to his knees to lift Rosa up. But the two
firebirds were busy in their own right by
then, barking orders at the twenty or so
more that had just flown into the room.
David turned, with Rosa in his arms, to
see the fire being consumed by a host of
brightly-coloured birds.
When it was done and the birds were
settled, on any (cool) perch they could
find, David looked at them all and spoke
the only word of dragontongue he knew.
Sometimes. Every bird sat up, their ear
tufts raised. One by one they set their gaze
on Aurielle, who spread her wings and
hovered in front of the humans. She
replied, in her own form of dragontongue.
And though David did not understand her

little rrrh he knew from its tone it was a

kindness, a greeting. He nodded at
Aurielle and she at him.
Welcome back, David, the firebird had
said.
Now the librarium was his.

Part Three

which has its beginnings

on the Isle of Alavon,
a long-forgotten area of
the Dead Lands
also March 7 032

1
Harlan Merriman and Bernard Brotherton
were transported to the Dead Lands, at
night, by penal taxicar. They were
escorted there by two Re:movers (Pinstriped and Plain). The prisoners were not
allowed any possessions, only the
minimal clothes they were dressed in. And
although neither man was formally bound,
the Re:movers ordered them to sit with
their hands clearly visible on their knees.
All speech was forbidden. The use of fain,
the prisoners were warned, would be
considered a grave violation of the terms
of their re:moval from the Grand Design.
When Bernard rather foolishly asked,
What terms? he was rewarded with a

bolt of charge from a scanner. The shock

of it left his four limbs shaking and froth
bubbling from the corners of his mouth.
Harlan, careful not to show any form of
dissent, gathered the wounded tech:nician
in his arms. The Re:movers let this pass. It
was the only concession they made to
either captive throughout the remainder of
the journey.
When the taxicar finally slowed to a
halt, the doors opened with a crisp
whoosh and the man-machines stepped out
in perfect synchrony. They ordered the
prisoners to move. The scientists stumbled
down a short metal ramp, onto a dark,
desolate, odourless wilderness very
similar to that which Eliza Merriman had
encountered. The land was mostly flat in
all directions and barely seemed able to

sustain a blade of grass. Here and there,

thanks to the few rays of moonlight finding
outlets through the clouds, a rough cast of
stone could be seen jutting out of the
sterile surface. There was no sign of
water, certainly no food. Nothing on any
horizon but the promise of loneliness.
Bernard began to shiver. It was cold
here. Very cold, Harlan thought. Nothing
like the carefully controlled environments
either man was used to in Co:pern:ica
Central.
Pin-stripe spoke. Harlan Merriman,
Bernard Brotherton, your citizenship of
Co:pern:ica is revoked. You will remain
in the Dead Lands until you expire by any
means. This is by order of an Aunt
Su:perior. This is the will of the Higher.
With that, the Re:movers climbed into

their taxicar and were gone.

Bernard dropped to his knees, sinking
his bones into the gluey earth.
Come on, Harlan said, touching him
gently on the shoulder. We have to go.
Where to? Bernard begged, throwing
his arms wide. Look around you, Harlan.
Everywhere leads to nowhere. Were
doomed.
Youve heard the stories, Harlan
said. There are communities here. People
survive. If we stay where we are the cold
will kill us. We must walk, Bernard. Its
our only chance.
The tech:nician dropped his stubby
hands flat against his thighs. In which
direction? We cant even use our fain to
guide us.
Id say our best bet lies that way,

said Harlan. He nodded at something

shimmering in the distance.
Bernard squinted for a focal point. Are
theytorches? he whispered, gathering
hope into his voice. He scrabbled to his
feet for a better look. Away to their right,
on one of the rolling parts of the
landscape, several specks of light were
dancing in the darkness.
Lets find out, said Harlan. And he
began to pick his way across the turf to
meet them.
What if theyre hostile? Bernard
stood his ground. There were many
rumours about life in the Dead Lands. Not
all of them were kind.
Theres little point in running, Harlan
replied. Theyll catch us if we try.
Whoever they are, theyre used to this

terrain; were not.

We could wait. Lie low. Assess them
as they pass.
Harlan flicked his eyes towards the
lights again. Theyre heading this way.
They know were here. They probably
saw the taxicar or monitored its flare.
Then I suppose our fate is sealed,
Bernard sighed. And without another
word, he fell into step behind his
colleague.
It wasnt long before the approaching
lights began to illuminate the shapes of
men. There were six in total, but three
were carrying two torches each. Harlan
found this reassuring. It suggested to him
that these people were used to taxicar
drops and had brought extra torches for

newcomers to hold. As the group drew

close, a youngish man at the front doused a
failing torch in a puddle of water. The
sudden fizzle made Bernard jump.
The young man quickly put him at ease.
Friends, we mean you no harm. He
signalled to a shaggy-haired member of
the group who stepped forward with two
bundles of clothing. All the men were
wearing shin-length robes, tied at the
waist by a short brown cord. I
recommend you undress, the young man
said.
Harlan, not questioning, took off his
jacket.
Leave it on the ground, said the man
with the clothing.
This was too much for Bernard. Why?
Whats the point of this?

The young man stabbed his torch into

the ground, took a robe and let it fall open
in his hands. This will be considerably
warmer, trust me. Regular clothing offers
little protection to you here, and it will
deteriorate quickly.
And its probably full of tracers, a
man with broken spex put in.
Trackers to monitor our movements?
Bernard asked.
The young man looked at him kindly.
No, friend, to take bets on how long you
survive. He offered the robe up. This
time, Bernard took it.
Youll also need these. An older man
with cheekbones as prominent as his nose
stepped forward. He handed Harlan a pair
of sandals. They were basic and fairly
shapeless, with a toe-post between the big

toe and the next. Travelling the marsh

land is tiring without them. They will help
to spread your weight and keep you
balanced. In the morning, well find you a
better fit.
Lastly, the young man gave Harlan a
torch. Harlan received it well. There was
something oddly comforting about the
weight of the wood and the scent of fire in
his nostrils. Who are you? he asked.
Renegades, like you, the young man
replied. Left here by a dying society that
wrongly believes we were the cause of its
ailments. My name is Mathew Lefarr and
we are the Followers of Agawin. Let me
lead you to our shelter. We can talk along
the way.
He signalled to the shaggy-haired man,
who put his torch to the bundle of clothing.

When the fire had taken, the group moved

off in the direction from which Harlan had
first seen the lights. Agawin? he asked,
having to work to keep pace with Lefarrs
trained stride. Ive heard that name
before, but I dont recall where. Is he the
leader of your tribe?
Lefarr considered the question for a
moment. Whats your name? he asked
quietly.
Harlan Merriman.
And your companion?
Bernard Brotherton.
Colleagues or friends?
Both, said Harlan, looking back.
Bernard was relaxed now and moving
freely, aided by the man who had given
out the sandals. We are scientists were
scientists from the Institute of Realism in

Phys:ics.
At what level?
Professor.
Bernard
was
my
tech:nician.
Lefarr nodded, taking this in. Do you
know where you are, Professor? Did the
Aunts or Re:movers tell you where youd
be dropped?
The Dead Lands. Thats all they said.
The Dead Lands are vast, Lefarr
explained. You are in a sector called
Alavon, which we believe was once home
to the seer, Agawin, whose legend we
follow.
Harlan glanced around him. This
dreadful, inhospitable place offered little
promise of home to anyone. Even so he
said, Sounds like an interesting story.
You will learn more of it in time,

Mathew said.
They slogged on for another few paces.
Despite the cold he could feel in all his
extremities (the toes were probably the
worst), Harlan could detect his body
warmth building and feel it being retained
by the fabric of his robe. How do you
know the name of this region? he asked.
Id always assumed that everything
outside of Central was uncharted.
A frail smile broke across Mathews
face. The Dead Lands were mapped
many spins ago.
Oh? How do you know that?
Lefarr looked sideways at him. Its the
reason Im here. He took a larger step
over a pool of water, urging Harlan to
copy what he did. Take care. The ground
here is very boggy. It can suck a man

down in a single draw. Go in too far and

we have no way of pulling you out. Dont
talk, just follow. Till we reach the higher
levels.
Harlan looked up. Now that his eyes
had adjusted to the darkness, the contours
of the land were easier to see. Some two
hundred paces ahead the ground curved up
in a gentle, extended slope. The men
behind Harlan were preparing for the
climb by organising themselves into single
file. At the risk of annoying his host he
asked, Whats over the ridge?
History, said Lefarr. Now,
concentrate and follow.
The next fifty paces were some of the
longest of Harlans life. Twice he was
stopped by shouts from behind when one
or other of the men (thankfully not

Bernard) lost their footing and had to be

rescued by their companions. Lefarr, who
seemed to cope better than any with the
treacherous conditions, went back on both
occasions to offer his help. If he wasnt a
leader, he deserved to be. That made
Harlan think again about the origins of the
name Agawin. It was reverberating round
his skull like an echo, yet he could not put
a time nor a memory to it. An answer lay
over the ridge, perhaps? That intriguing
promise, as much as the threat of
submersion in the marsh, sharpened his
attention for the final part of the trek. The
slope was reached without further
incident, and by the time they could walk
and talk again at leisure, Harlans mind
had drifted back to the latter part of his
conversation. You said you were

involved with the mapping of this area.

Are you a scientist as well? Did you work
for the Geo:grafical Institute?
Not exactly, Lefarr replied. I used to
make t:coms for the broadcast networks. I
had a promising career, a reputation for
being thorough. One day, I was assigned
to a top secret project whose object was
to quash an uncomfortable belief that was
gaining strength amongst the citizens of
Co:pern:ica.
Something to do with Agawin?
No. It ended here, with Agawin, but it
began with the Grand Design. Lefarr
extended a hand to help Harlan over a
crumbling rock. A covert poll, arranged
by the Aunts, indicated that over sixty per
cent of the citizens of Central felt their
lives were missing something. I was

given the job of finding out what. During

my research, I heard the name Agawin for
the first time. It ignited something in me
that I never knew existed: a crushing
desire to step into the past, to understand
where I had come from. This feeling of
insecurity, for want of a better phrase,
was the root of the problem in Central. So
I began to ask questions I wasnt supposed
to ask. All of them turned my
investigations here. Id heard rumours that
the Dead Lands were very far from dead
and were beginning to spontaneously
regenerate. But when I sought permission
to explore beyond Central, to my
amazement the Aunts denied it. So I went
to the Geo:grafical Institute which, as
you know, is controlled by the Aunts
looking for evidence.

You broke in?

At the time, it seemed like a worthy
thing to do.
They caught you.
Yes, and sent me here, to a region
where they send all the worst or
depending how you look at it, the best
offenders. This party of men are some of
the finest minds to come out of Central.
You may not think so yet, but youre in
excellent company. He crested the ridge
and pointed with his torch, releasing a
shower of cinders from its tip. Welcome
to the Dead Lands best-kept secret. This
is the Isle of Alavon.
Some way ahead, about three times
further than the distance theyd walked, a
small and almost symmetrical hill was
rising from the base of a natural valley.

Thats amazing, said Harlan, shaking his

head in wonder. I always thought the
Dead Lands were flat. Do you live on the
hill?
One of the approaching men said, We
keep to the lowlands, around it.
But on the peak, Harlan could see a
small tower or maybe the ruins of one.
Pointing to it he asked, Is that inhabited?
No, said Lefarr. Not any more.
Bernard drew alongside. Out of breath,
but equally transfixed, he panted, Wind.
He laughed. Actual wind, in my hair.
What there is of it, one of the tribe
joked.
They all laughed, including Bernard. I
havent felt this for years, he said. Real
air blowing through my lungs. He opened
his mouth and took a deep breath in.

And its fresh, said Mathew. Not

like the filtered environments in Central.
Its beautiful, said Harlan, in a
rather grotesque kind of way. How do you
men survive here?
The six Followers looked at one
another as if they werent entirely willing
to give up the answer. Once again, it was
left to Lefarr. Look carefully at the hill.
Tell me what you see.
Harlan studied it in detail. Dawn was
beginning to break across the valley. In the
gathering light it was possible to see that
the mound was composed of three or four
tiers of earth, defined by upwardlyspiralling terraces. At first there seemed
nothing remarkable about them. But as the
light began to flood the lower slopes,
Harlans gaze was drawn to a shoulder of

land near the foot of the hill and

something rather peculiar on it. He
stepped forward to be sure his eyes
werent deceiving him. Colour, he said.
Crops, said Mathew. The men around
him placed a hand across their hearts.
In amongst the blackness lay a field of
green.

2
Firebird! one of the men shouted
suddenly.
Harlan let his gaze run across the
skyline and quickly picked out the familiar
shape. The bird was circling towards the
valley floor, barely moving its bright
orange wings. It tipped a little as it caught
the sunlight, resembling a soaring ball of
flame.
Two of the Followers dropped their
torches and began to sprint down the hill.
The other three looked to Lefarr for
guidance.
Whats happening? asked Harlan.
Lefarr, whod been carrying a small
backpack, made from the same rough cloth

as his robe, let it fall to the ground. He

threw his torch aside. Do you run,
Harlan?
Bernard looked at Lefarr in horror.
Youre not hunting it, surely? Its illegal
to take the life of a firebird.
Mathew Lefarr grunted quietly. In the
Dead Lands, Bernard, we make our own
rules. He nodded at two of the remaining
men, who quickly went in pursuit of their
friends. To the other man he said,
Roderic, will you stay and guide Bernard
to the Shelter?
I will, said Roderic. He was the man
with the cheekbones. The oldest of the
group by far.
Harlan? said Lefarr, inviting him to
come.
Harlan took a deep breath. He had no

idea what was being asked of him, but

there was only one way to find out. New
world, new rules, as Lefarr had said. I
need to see this, he said to his worriedlooking colleague. And kicking off his
sandals as the other men had done, he
charged down the hill after Mathew and
the others.
By the time they were all on level
ground, with the Isle of Alavon standing
huge beside them, the men had spread out
and each was turning their face to the sky.
The bird was coming down, but it was
hard to say where. Several times it
changed direction, which had the men
pointing, predicting new landings, and
running towards their next best guess.
Lefarr had a different strategy. As a
puffing Harlan Merriman appeared at his

side, he said, Conserve your energy,

Professor. This one intends to play with us
a while. My advice: pick an area and stick
to it.
Harlan spoke, doubled over, with his
hands on his knees. What happens when
it comes down?
The first one to catch it, claims it.
And then?
Lefarr didnt answer. He was engaged
in a dialogue with another group of men
whod come sprinting towards him, keen
to join the hunt. Harlan heard his name
reported to the newcomers, but noted no
animosity amongst them. Curiosity
afforded them each a single glance, but
their clear priority was the bird. Harlan
could still just see it, a dark slit against
the glaring orange sunrise. How many of

you in the tribe? he panted.

Twenty-two,
Lefarr
answered.
Including you and Bernard.
All men?
In this area, yes.
To Harlans left, a wild shout went up.
Its dropping, said Lefarr. Now we
must be swift. Good luck, Harlan. From
this moment on, its every man for
himself.
Wait, Harlan cried. What exactly am
I supposed to do? But Lefarr was already
heading back towards the ridge, where he
and any one of four other men were the
likeliest candidates to catch the bird. It
was flying at little more than twice head
height, but still leading them a merry
dance. Just when it looked as if it might
come down in favour of a man with bright

red hair, it swerved away and plummeted

to earth out of Harlans sight. He heard a
chorus of brief, excited cries, before the
group of men came abruptly to a halt.
Their collective stillness was a clear
indication that the creature had been
captured. But even Harlan was surprised
when he saw the victor.
The bird was in the arms of Bernard
Brotherton.
Get back! Bernard shouted to the
assembled gathering. Youre not going to
kill it! I wont let you harm it!
Mathew Lefarr spread his hands wide
to tell the other men to be silent and calm.
He stepped towards Bernard in a nonaggressive manner. Bernard, he said,
the bird came here to die. None of us
ever intended to kill it.

Then why did you chase it?

Friend, you must not let it struggle,
said a man.
Bernard gulped and eased the tightness
of his grip. The bird laid its orange head
against his chest, letting its dark red ear
tufts fold.
Kneel with it, Lefarr said. Let it face
the earth.
Why?
Bernard, said Harlan, stepping
forward. This is their way. Do as he
says.
The bird has only moments to live,
said Lefarr. Hold it, Bernard. As its
captor, that is your honour and your
privilege. But it needs to face the land.
And so Bernard Brotherton dropped to
his knees with the heartbeat of a firebird

fading against his trembling palm. He

arranged its head in the crook of his arm
and let it see the dead soil all around it.
The bird blinked and gave up a grateful
rrrh. And as it closed its hooded eyes for
the very last time, it shuddered and
produced a single tear. Inside the tear
burned a violet flame. The tear ran down
the firebirds beak and dripped onto the
blackened earth.
Instantly, as if a pebble had been
dropped into a pool of water, a great burst
of energy swept across the dirt. The
ground Harlan was standing on was
purged with a strange white fire, before its
colour settled back to a rich shade of
brown. But that was not the end of it.
Suddenly, a host of bright green shoots
began to push up from the energised soil.

One of the men knelt down to examine

them. Corn, he said. He looked joyously
at Lefarr.
Mathew went up and touched Bernard
on the shoulder. Its done, he said
quietly. Lay the bird down.
Shaking and confused, Bernard did as
he was told and nestled the body among
the new plants. In a matter of moments, the
birds molecular structure had collapsed
and it had faded from view to become one
with the soil it had brought to life.
This field of crops now belongs to
you, said Lefarr. All we ask is that you
tend it wisely and be aware of the needs
of the men around you. He stood aside
and invited the other men closer. One by
one they shook Bernards hand and
thanked him for what he had done.

Last to approach was Harlan Merriman.

He crouched down and looked his
tech:nician in the eye. Well, Bernard.
Welcome to the tribe.
What is this place? Bernard
whispered. He was still kneeling, still
overcome.
Harlan extended a hand to help him up.
This is Alavon, he said. Our new life.

3
It was at least half a day before Harlan
and Bernard were ready to speak with
Lefarr again. At the suggestion of a senior
man, Hugo Abbot, the newcomers were
escorted to a suitable dwelling place
where they were encouraged to rest. The
Shelter, as the tribe described their
settlement, was little more than a small
collection of huts on one side of the hill,
put together from dried earth and woven
grasses. When Harlan set eyes upon his
new accommodation, the luxury of a selfadjusting pneumatic bed was soon a
distant fantasy for him, but after the tiring
slog across the marsh it wasnt difficult to
find several hours of welcome sleep on

the rough bedding provided.

He woke to the warmth of a crackling
fire and the humid atmosphere of steam
rising from a bubbling pot. Every joint in
his back ached, more so as he pushed
himself upright. Roderic, the man who had
stayed with Bernard on the summit of the
ridge, handed him a ceramic dish filled
with a pale, uninviting broth.
Im sorry, its the best there is.
Harlan manufactured a grateful smile.
He glanced at the broth. There was some
kind of loose peel floating on the surface.
Potato, Roderic said, guessing at the
coming question. He pressed a clutch of
bread into Harlans hand and encouraged
him to try it. It clung to the teeth and was
completely saltless, but otherwise
palatable.

You have flour? Harlan asked.

Roderic turned away to stir the pot. A
bird gifted us a field of wheat. So, yes, we
make bread when were able to.
How do you bake it?
We found we could construct a
tolerable oven by cutting a rectangular
hole into an earthen embankment. We heat
it with hot rocks. Its an art, getting the
timings right. Ive been cursed more than
once for giving the tribe a bad gut. The
small flecks of dark material you can taste
are wild berries. They are coated in
natural yeast, which helps the bread to
rise and gives it flavour.
And the water?
From a spring in the hillside.
Harlan brought the spring water broth to
his mouth. One sip nearly took away the

back of his throat. He wretched a little and

had to spit out.
Dont worry, you get used to it, a
familiar voice said. Lefarr swept in and
sat cross-legged on a pile of loose cloths,
the same material the robes and blankets
were made from. What we lack in
seasoning, we make up for in nutrition.
Harlan wiped his lip. Ill need a lot
more convincing of that, he thought. But
the growing threat of hunger persuaded
him to take another swig, which this time
he swallowed. Where did you find the
dish? And the cooking pot, come to that?
The potatoes, he assumed, were another
blessing (as hed heard one of the men
say) from a dying firebird.
We go out regularly in teams of four,
searching, collecting up what we can.

Sometimes when were digging the crops,

we come across gems like the cooking
pot.
Then theres really stuff out there?
A smile played across Mathews face.
I told you, this place is not as dead as its
name implies. The Aunts provide us with
cloth, but no food. They are well aware
that with enough ingenuity and
determination a tribe can survive here
just. By handing us the responsibility of
scraping together our meagre existence
they can claim theyre not condemning us
to outright starvation, which eases their
questionable conscience and keeps them
within the law. But hundreds do die here,
Harlan.
A weary groan from the bundle of
blankets in the corner announced that

Bernard, at least, was still alive. Roderic

moved across the floor to attend to him.
Do the Aunts know about the crops
and the firebirds?
If they do, theyve done nothing to stop
it, said Lefarr.
Has it always happened?
No, said Lefarr. Roderic can tell
you more about it than I.
Harlan looked at the kindly old man.
The skin on his cheeks was painfully thin,
his facial muscles all but stretched to their
limit. He was hardly the best
advertisement for his own cooking, but his
small grey eyes were quick and lively,
and if what Lefarr had said about the
collection of minds here was accurate,
even a bag of bones like him was not to be
underestimated.

The crops are a recent development,

said Roderic as he welcomed Bernard
awake, though its never been uncommon
to see firebirds circling overhead, leaving
food or helpful implements.
This was dropped by one, said
Lefarr, taking a needle from a pouch
pocket stitched across the front of his
robe.
Harlan nodded. Hed been wondering
how the clothing had been put together. He
pinched at his robe and sniffed an armpit.
The odour from it wasnt good.
Its rumoured that they aid the sick,
Roderic added, though we, on the Isle,
have never seen any evidence of that. He
handed Bernard a dish of broth. The kind
of event you witnessed in the valley began
when one of our tribe, a man called Hugo

Abbot, whom you met yesterday, was

exploring the region and saw a distressed
bird come down in the field beside him.
One of its wings had got entangled in a
small piece of netting that Hugo had found.
Unbeknown to Hugo, the net had blown
away on the wind, into the flight-path of
the bird. Hugo was able to tear away the
net, but in its struggles the bird had put the
wing out of joint. It was in anguish and
ready to give up its life. But Hugo
steadied it as best he could and brought it
to the Shelter where another of our men,
Terance Humbey
A medic in Central, Lefarr put in.
was able to tend it. The bird gave a
terrible cry of suffering as Terance reset
the wing. The poor creature went painfully
limp, and at first we thought it had died of

shock. But Terance detected a trace of air

in its nostrils and he stayed with it until it
duly came round. By then he had strapped
the wing and settled the bird in a
makeshift cage. It awoke blowing plumes
of fire, spitting its red-hot embers at us as
if we were its mortal enemy. Hugo
bravely knelt down and spoke to it.
Perhaps it was his gentle tone of voice or
the fact that the bird simply recognised its
rescuer, but it allowed him to put his
hands up close and take the cage apart.
There the bird stood, glorious in its bright
yellow plumage, with its ear tufts raised
like orange twigs. It looked at us all in
turn, then began to peck at the binding on
its wing. Terance followed Hugos
example and knelt down also. Gently, so
as not to startle the creature, he

unwrapped the binds and set the thing free.

It took to the sky in a flash of feathers,
rolling and tumbling as though it was
flying for the very first time. We clapped
it and cheered and wished it well. Before
it left to go back to wherever it had come
from, it hovered above us with its wings
spread apart and the sun forming an aura
around it. It was a wonderful sight to
behold. Two days later, the first one came
to add its fire to the Isle. Since then,
others have done the same. The result, as
you saw, is extraordinary.
Lefarr stood up. Ive called a
gathering, he said. Whenever new men
arrive we come together to introduce
ourselves and exchange knowledge.
Roderic will show you what to do with
your dishes. Ill be waiting outside.

Mathew?
Lefarr turned to look at Bernard. The
tech:nician looked weary, but was
otherwise OK.
What does one do aboutthe soup that
isnt absorbed?
Lefarr laughed out loud. One thing
were not short of is ground to bury waste
in. Roderic will take you to a designated
field. When youre ready, join us.
The twenty-two Followers of Agawin
assembled in an open space between the
huts. Many of them were sitting on parts of
old trees they had presumably dragged
there. How far, Harlan wondered, did
their explorations take them; he had seen
no sign of trees the night before. Bernard
was guided to a spare block of wood and

Harlan to a boulder that must have

required the shoulders of the strongest
men to move it. Lefarr sat opposite,
winding his limbs around a ragged trunk
that seemed to have footholds specially
carved out for him.
Friends, he announced, we welcome
to the tribe Harlan Merriman, once a
Professor of Phys:ics, and his colleague,
Bernard Brotherton, from that same line of
work.
The men looked at Harlan keenly.
In a moment, Lefarr went on. I will
ask you both to explain why you were sent
here. But first, let us introduce ourselves
to you. On my left is Hugo Abbot, whom
you have already heard about.
Welcome, said Hugo. He nodded his
nearly-bald head. Two slim wedges of

dark brown hair sat like crowns just

above his ears. He wore round-rimmed
spex, though only the left side lens was
present. I was sent here for openly
speaking my opinions of the Aunts and
advocating a return to natural births. He
turned to a square-chinned man at his left,
whose jaw was red with shaving marks.
Whatever cutting implement the firebirds
might have gifted him, it wasnt slick or
intended to scrape human skin. The whole
tribe, bar two, had facial hair.
Welcome, he said, thick and nasal.
My name is Colm Fellowes. I am an
engineer. I used to imagineer and tune
Re:movers. I was sent here for making
them deliberately malfunction when my
wife was taken for Aunthood against her
wishes.

That raised a small cheer. And so it

went on, all around the circle. One man
after another, telling of their rebellion
against the Higher or the Grand Design.
Harlans confession of his experiment
gone wrong stimulated many questions and
prompted a long discussion about the
properties of time and the possible role of
the firebirds in it. Finally, Lefarr said to
the new men, Is there anything you would
like to ask of us?
Yes, said Harlan. Im interested in
the tower. He pointed over his shoulder
to the hill, rising like a moody giant in the
background.
Does the path take you to it? Bernard
asked. From his position he could see the
hill clearly. He nodded at a faint brown
line winding across the elevated ground.

The tower is a sacred place, said

Hugo. Its all that remains of the
dwelling place of Agawin.
Harlan swivelled on his boulder,
cupping his hands above his eyes. Can
we go up there?
Lefarr glanced around the circle. He
leaned close to Hugo Abbot and spoke in
a whisper. Hugo gave the faintest of nods.
It is every mans right to make the
climb, said Mathew, but I should warn
you, there are dangers.
Bernards questioning gaze shifted back
to the hillside. The sun was sitting just
behind the summit. It isnt high. Surely
were not likely to fall?
One of the men, Thomas Spilo, gave out
a short grunt.
Mathew raised a hand before others

could respond. Men have been changed

by the experience, Bernard. The tower, as
Hugo said, is a spiritual place.
Another of the men muttered something
and for a second time Mathew overrode it.
We will climb the Isle today, before
dark. Myself, Colm Fellowes, Harlan and
Bernard.
Why isle, not hill? Harlan asked. He
couldnt wait to get started.
Colm Fellowes replied, Alavon was
once surrounded by water. When the Great
Re:duction began, it drained to leave the
marsh you crossed.
Re:duction? Bernard said, looking
round the circle.
Youve never wondered how these
lands earned their name? said Lefarr.
Bernard concentrated inwardly for a

moment. Werent we all taught that the

elemental forces nature I believe it
was called simply fell into collapse
when humans gathered in Co:pern:ica
Central?
One or two of the men began to shuffle
their feet.
Im afraid thats not correct, Hugo
Abbot said. Mathew, tell them what you
discovered in the Geo:grafical Institute.
Lefarr waited for Harlan to look at him,
then said, As Im sure you know, all
living things have auma, from the smallest
blade of grass to the largest hill. Once,
this land was rich with it. Every stone,
every granule of soil, every creature that
burrowed through or lived in the soil or
ran across its surface or swam in its pools
of life-giving water, every tree or flower

that sprouted from the land and drank in

the rain that fell from the clouds all of
these things had natural auma, linked
together in a collective consciousness
called Gai:a and shared with us, the
most privileged, intelligent lifeform on the
planet. And do you know what we did
with that privilege, when we eventually
discovered how our minds were
connected to this extraordinary resource?
We slowly sucked the consciousness out
of the earth and all of its creatures and all
of its plants, and we took it to ourselves
and we used it to enhance our fain. Before
we knew what we were doing, the plants
and the creatures were fading from view
and the land had become dark. We took it
all, Bernard. We Re:duced it to nothing
but a barren wilderness where hardly a

memory of its beautiful, boundless

diversity survives.
But why? For what purpose? Bernard
said, wringing his hands in a belated show
of guilt.
For the purpose of a better way of
life, said Hugo.
For the purpose of imagineering, said
Lefarr.

4
In essence, we are farmers, Colm
Fellowes was saying, as he prepared
Harlan and Bernard for their trek to the
summit of the Isle of Alavon. He tossed a
sandal aside from the pile hed been
working through and chose one with a
wider base for Bernards left foot. We
miss our wives and our children of
course, but what we have here we are
rightly proud of. There is not a man among
us who would not defend Alavon to his
death. He tapped Bernards ankle as he
found a good fit. That pair will serve you
well when we reach the stiffest part of the
climb. They wont be entirely
comfortable, but they will keep the

calluses and blisters down. Harlan, you

seem ill at ease?
Harlan snapped a dead twig and let the
pieces fall. I was thinking about the
greenery, he said. Earlier, he had
accompanied Colm and Bernard to
Brotherton Field as it was now known,
where Colm had offered Bernard useful
advice on what help he could expect from
the rest of the tribe, what tools were
available to work the new crops (which,
after their amazing first flourish, were
now dormantly soaking up the heat of the
sun), and the best way to carry water to
the field, with which to irrigate the
fledgling plants.
The greenery? Colm repeated.
After what I learned at the meeting this
morning, it fills me with an odd kind of

sadness to see it.

But the plants are our lifeline, Colm
said, frowning.
Bernard raised a hand in a gesture of
explanation. I think I know what Harlans
getting at, he said, walking in circles to
test his new footwear. It was the study of
plants, in particular the efficiency with
which they converted light to energy in the
photo:synthetic process, that indirectly led
to a greater understanding of the laws of
quan:tum mech:anics and the relationship
between
light,
perception
and
consciousness and hence the ability to
imagineer.
But that was afterwards, said Harlan,
staring grimly at the hill.
Afterwards? I dont understand,
Colm said. He pulled on a backpack and

whistled to Lefarr.
Bernard is talking about the way we
fine-tuned our imagineering once we
discovered we were capable of it. But
how we made the breakthrough is still a
mystery. We have always been able to
travel in our minds, to think freely, to
dream of better things. We can still do it
here, in a place where our fain is useless,
and I find that strangely liberating. But
what was it that initiated the profound
leap in consciousness that ultimately
enabled us to make stable constructs of
our thoughts? And was it worth it, if it left
Co:pern:ica like this?
Colm Fellowes shrugged. How did the
universe evolve from a cloud of gas?
What defines the way a seed, once
watered, divides into leaf and stem? How

does a firebirds tear replenish the earth?

Maybe some questions are too big to
answer and therefore better left alone.
He turned and checked the position of the
sun. We should leave. The journey isnt
long but it is hard and we need to reach
the ruins before nightfall. Keep drinking
from your vessels. If your breathing
becomes difficult, signal me or Mathew.
The air grows thinner towards the peak.
How? asked Bernard. It cant be
high enough to register a significant
change of atmosphere?
Colm Fellowes looked at them both in
turn. You can ponder that mystery along
the way. Trust me, its better to think than
to talk.
From a nearby hut, Lefarr and the
medic, Terance Humbey, came to join

them. After a further check of provisions

and a few more words of advice from
Terance, the party made its way to the
rising ground. Men working singly in the
fields to either side leaned on their
improvised hoes and watched them go.
Why are they so solemn? Bernard
whispered to Lefarr.
They fear we may not come back, he
replied.
That stopped Harlan before hed struck
the path. Why? he asked directly. What
are you keeping from us?
We should tell them, Mat, Colm
Fellowes said, the ground almost cracking
with the weight of his stride. He stopped
and took it upon himself anyway. Men
have been known to go mad up there. They
say the ruins are haunted.

By Agawin?
Fellowes glanced back at Lefarr and
said, Some travellers have returned from
the Isle with a tale about a flying beast
many times bigger than any firebird. They
say it guards the tower, though none of us
have seen it from the settlement below.
They say its fire can steal the air from
within a mans lungs.
Roderic attaches a name to it, said
Mathew. He was a scholar of History
once. He identifies this creature by the
anonymous term dragon.
Bernard gulped and loosened the neck
of his robe. A fire-breathing creature
bigger than a bird?
You may both turn back if you wish,
Mathew said.
And what kind of choice was that?

thought Harlan. He pressed on, dropping

in behind Colm Fellowes. Have either of
you ever encountered this dragon?
We have both felt its presence,
Mathew said.
With respect, that tells me nothing.
Colm Fellowes tightened his lip. He
nudged a few pebbles to one side of the
path. You will have the opportunity to
test your scepticism when we stand at the
doorway to the tower, Professor.
If its ruined, what is there to see?
said Bernard, adopting Colms example of
avoiding the stones; they felt like small
explosions on the soles of the feet.
At the centre of the tower is a dais,
said Lefarr, made from the same grey
stone as the building. It rises to about the
mid-height of a man and is circular,

equidistant with the walls of the tower.

Carved around the edges of its flat, upper
surface are symbols no one has been able
to interpret. At its centre is an image.
Bernard paused to quench his thirst. His
slightly bloated cheeks were already
beginning to glow with the first signs of
perspiration. Of the beast that haunts the
place?
Lefarr stopped and opened his own
water vessel. No. The figure of a man in
the creatures image.
A man with wings and fire?
And is that Agawin? Harlan said.
We believe so, said Mathew.
The Followers say the dais is his
tomb, Colm added.
Bernards lips made a gentle smacking
sound as he wiped them dry of water.

There has never been a successful

excavation, said Lefarr, in anticipation of
the scientists next question.
But there have been attempts? Harlan
pressed him.
Mathew capped his drinker with a firm
thump. There wont be one today, was
all he said. And at that moment, it began to
rain.
Bernard instinctively reached for a
hood. Not finding one attached to his robe,
he accepted it, as Colm and Mathew had
done, and let the water run where it
would.
Tread carefully now, Mathew
advised them. The rain is refreshing but
it makes the way slippery. There is no
cover here other than the ruins. The
quicker we reach them, the better. We

wont speak again unless someone is in

trouble. Are we clear?
Clear, said Harlan, hitching up his
backpack. Bernard nodded, and they both
fell into step.
Despite Lefarrs warnings, the pathway
had enough grit mixed with the mud to
make sure their sandals made a good,
sound purchase. There were imbalances,
but no embarrassing falls, and the party
moved ahead in open file, at reasonable
pace. All around them the sky was gravid
with rain, which did little but inflate the
dark character of the land and kept sightseeing, as Bernard called it, to a
minimum. Harlan, likewise, despite his
curiosity about Agawin and the creature
which allegedly guarded the tower, could

find little room in his mind to think of

anything other than his next sure step. But
as the muscles in his thighs began to burn,
announcing the onset of the final incline,
he suddenly felt a swift loss of pressure in
his lungs and had to drop back, a few
paces off the others. He gestured to Colm
that he was fine, just pausing for a drink of
water. But before he knew it he was on his
knees, clutching at his chest for any kind
of breath. A high-pitched whine made his
eardrums sing. Blood pooled against the
wall of one nostril. His eyeballs felt as if
they wanted to burst. He could still see
Colm, but only as a hazy S-shaped line
against a sky suddenly swollen with heat.
He cried out to him, but the thickened air
folded his words right back. And when he
stretched a hand forward to signal for

help, something inhuman came to meet it.

He felt nothing but the pressure waves
crossing him at first. His robe billowed
and his modest shock of hair fanned out.
Claws with the strength to crush bones
into paper took him by the shoulders and
lifted him as if he were an empty shell. He
was some way off the ground when he
heard the muffled shouts of the men
below. More pressingly, another voice
was in his mind.
Beware the Shadow of Isenfier.
The next thing Harlan Merriman knew,
his body was impacting on the slopes of
Alavon and his consciousness was back
with the other three men.
Harlan?! Harlan?! Are you all right?
Lefarrs voice swam into play. Colm,
pick him up. Carry him to the tower. Lay

him down there.

In the tower?
On the dais itself if you have to!
Move!
And Harlan felt himself lifted again,
cradled in the arms of the once-engineer.
When he did become fully awake, the
rain had slowed to a creeping mizzle. He
was lying by a curving wall of stone that
reached for the sky like a funnel to the
stars. The tower, he whispered.
Yes, said Bernard, kneeling beside
him. He rested the back of his hand on
Harlans forehead.
Lefarr swept up, offering a vessel.
Drink, he said.
Harlan shook his head. With Bernards
help, he managed a sitting position. Once
again his back was wracked with pain.

His left ankle was a bloated ball of

bruises.
What happened, Harlan? Lefarr asked
urgently.
I dont know, he muttered.
You were floating, said Bernard.
Harlan coughed a little. Floating?
You were ten feet off the ground when
we reached you, said Lefarr.
Harlan looked all around him. For one
moment he experienced a quieter repeat of
the singing in his ears. Where is it?
Where did it fly to?
Where did what fly to? Bernard
asked.
The creature. The dragon that picked
me off the hill.
Bernard and Lefarr exchanged a glance.
All we saw was you hanging limply in

the sky. There was no dragon.

Harlan stared at the dais. There was
blood in his mouth and fear in his heart.
He touched the stones he was propped
against and said, It goes by a name, this
invisible thing. This creature that drives
men to madness.
Lefarr ran a thumb across his drying
lips. You commingled with it?
It with me.
Was it Agawin?
Harlan looked at the shifting clouds,
framed by the circle of stone above. No,
he said. It called itself Gawain.

5
We should return to the Shelter, Colm
Fellowes said, letting his gaze roam
slowly across every patch of sky. He was
standing with his back to the other three
men, just beyond the arch-shaped opening
that would have brought him into the
tower proper.
Harlan is in no state to travel, said
Lefarr. He may have broken his foot.
Colm turned, imploring Mathew to look
at him. Two men, in turns, could carry
him down with ease. If nothing else, let
me go back for Terance.
No one leaves yet, Harlan said
quietly. Bernard, help me up. He put out
an arm. Using Bernards shoulder as a

crutch, he struggled to his feet, holding his

swollen ankle off the ground.
Colm strode up to the archway, placing
his hands on the walls to either side. The
surface stonework crumbled against his
palms, echoing, perhaps, the feeling in his
heart. That thing is all around us, he
whispered darkly, hoping to induce some
sense into Mathew. (He had not even
bothered to question Harlans statement.)
Night will be upon us within the hour. If
we dont go now it may be too late. We
cannot fight what we cannot see.
Were not here to fight it, Harlan
said. He grimaced as he tried to put
pressure on his ankle. Were here to
solve a riddle. Besides, it could pick us
off at any moment. An invisible being has
no need for the cloak of darkness. Relax,

Colm, it means us no harm.

Colm struck a hand against the wall and
stepped back. Men have been known to
put a knife through their heart after theyve
encountered the soul of this beast. How
can you speak of it in gentle terms when it
picked you up and cast you aside like a
leaf?
It needed to prove something to me.
And what was that?
That its real, not imagined.
Colm threw up his hands in despair.
I understand your anxieties and Im not
trying to belittle them, said Harlan, but
Im certain that this dragon has never
intended to prey on the tribe. Its auma is at
such an intense vibration that it simply
overwhelms the minds of most men. Its
the fear of what they dont understand that

kills them, not the fire of the beast.

Lefarr regarded Harlan thoughtfully,
tilting his head in a searching manner.
What exactly did you learn from it, other
than a name?
Harlan hobbled over to the dais. He
brushed some loose dirt off the circle of
symbols and asked Bernard to clear the
far side as well. As you know, in the
commingled state its possible to
assimilate something of the co-hosts
nature. This dragon is a trans:dimensional
being. A wandering spirit, lost in time.
Its seeking our help?
Possibly, yes.
Colm let out a hopeless sigh.
It gave me a warning, Harlan said.
Now Colm turned and looked sharply at
Lefarr.

It was telling me to beware of

something. Have you heard of the
Shadow of Isenfier?
Ice? What is ice? Colm lifted his
shoulders. We know of fire, but
Not a conjunction of words, said
Harlan. I heard just one. Im sure of it.
Izenfire? Mathew tried.
Close, said Harlan. It means nothing
to you?
Nothing.
Me neither, said Bernard, shaking his
head.
Harlan tightened his lip. Then all
were left with is this, he said. He laid
his hands flat on the dais. Tell me,
Mathew, why does the tribe follow
Agawin?
Lefarr came to stand beside him. The

legend was in place well before I

arrived. He pointed to the centre of the
dais, where there was indeed a worndown image of a winged man. In the
early days of Alavon, when the tower was
first explored, a superstitious conviction
began to grow around this figure. Its basis
was simple enough: if we demonstrated
enough belief in our winged man, he
would protect us from starvation and the
stuff of nightmares.
A religion? Harlan looked up in
surprise.
Not a word you hear every day, said
Lefarr, on any part of Co:pern:ica. But
when a man is stripped of his fain, he
sometimes turns to faith as a substitute.
The men of Alavon found their comfort in
the myth of Agawin, even though nothing

was known of his life, perhaps because

nothing was known of his life. I should
explain, by the way, that in some men the
superstition runs so deep that they dare not
even look upon the figure in front of you.
Im afraid that might have to change,
said Bernard.
Harlan raised his eyes to meet the
tech:nicians.
Youve
spotted
something?
These signs have been carefully
arranged, said Bernard. At a casual
glance, they appear to be just an irregular
jumble. But theyre actually a complex of
four overlying patterns.
Lefarr murmured in agreement. Yes, I
see it. Could they be star maps or
constellations?
Not from any system I know, said

Bernard. He stretched his fingers over the

carvings and made a few comparative
measurements. Do you see the small
depressions where some of the stars
would be?
Lefarr nodded.
Put your fingertips into them.
Its a key, breathed Harlan, his
excitement growing. He placed all ten
digits into the patterns. Colm, come
inside. We need four to complete the
circle.
Colm Fellowes hovered in the doorway
still. This is madness, he hissed at
Mathew. Who knows what dangers the
dais holds. Weve already had a warning.
We should leave, Mat. Now.
No, said Mathew. I believe in these
men. If you abandon this, Colm, we three

will simply return tomorrow with another

volunteer. We need to resolve this. We
owe it to the tribe.
Colm Fellowes ran a hand across his
shaven face. He and his conscience fought
for a moment. Then he stepped across the
threshold, into the circle. The natural
ruddiness of his cheeks began to blanch as
he saw the symbol of the winged man, but
he set his fingers down where shown.
What now? said Lefarr, as Harlan
filled the last ten spots. His gaze jumped
from hand to hand. Nothing was
happening.
We must commingle, said Harlan.
Colm gritted his teeth. You know
thats not possible in the Dead Lands.
It may be enough to show like intent.
Close your eyes. Concentrate on knowing

the meaning of the dais.

But still nothing happened, though a
gentle vortex of air was beginning to
strafe the inner walls of the tower. It
rippled the loose parts of everyones
clothing and stirred up the dust round the
base of the dais. And though it did not
have the strength to move a man, its
agitated wail was enough to worry Colm.
This isnt working, he said. We
should leave, while we can. He pulled
his fingers away.
No, wait, said Harlan, his eyes racing
over the patterns again. Colm, come
back. I think we need to overlap hands.
Like this. He demonstrated quickly to
Lefarr, placing his right hand where
Mathews left would have been.
Yes, said Bernard. Yes, that could

work. Our arms will mimic the crisscrossing theme.

Colm, come on, Mathew implored
him. One more try, then we go.
Colm took up position and closed his
eyes again.
Almost immediately, the vortex was
back and building in strength.
Hold fast! yelled Harlan, as it started
to yowl like a creature trapped. It tugged
at the pouches of skin on his cheeks and
evaporated most of the moisture from his
eyes. The ground was shaking, and so too
the tower, throwing loose mortar from
between its joints.
Suddenly, Mathew Lefarr cried out:
Harlan, look up!
There, in the circle of light above, was
the apparition they had all imagined but

never made flesh. A terrifying beast with

wings like giant sheets of canvas. Eyes of
yellow oil. Teeth like daggered rocks. It
twisted and hissed and roared at the men,
all the while lashing its dark red tongue.
Colm Fellowes screamed and ran out onto
the hillside. Bernard, likewise, fell
against the wall, burying his face in a
huddle of fright. Only Harlan and the
valiant Mathew Lefarr were witness to
what happened next. The creature twisted
its ingenious neck (every scale readjusted
in one flowing arrow) and aimed its snout
downwards. Squeezing its nostrils tight, it
sent forth a column of blue-white fire. The
point of the flame struck the centre of the
dais. It burned for a sec in a crown of
light, then was sucked back into the
nostrils of the dragon. In its wake,

something extraordinary followed. There

was a grinding noise at the centre of the
dais, and the spot marked by the image of
Agawin began to turn and work its way
upwards. At first it appeared that a plug of
pure stone had lifted from the structure.
But as Harlans eyes readjusted to the
light, he saw that it was a receptacle of
sorts. A cylinder, about the length of a
mans hand, made of a glistening,
trans:lucent matter. With cinders in his
hair and uncomfortable traces of singeing
in his nostrils, he took a breath and closed
his hand around it. The outer structure
vanished as if it was dust, but when he
pulled his hand away, inside it was
something from another world.
Lefarr was too awestruck to speak at
first. What is it? he asked eventually.

Harlan ran his thumb along the curved

and jagged surface. Something beyond
our reality, he whispered. I believe its
the claw of a dragon.

6
Once again, at mid-morning on the day
after the climb, the Tribe of Alavon
gathered in a circle in the clearing by the
huts. The claw lay on a stump of wood at
the centre, for all the men to see. Mathew
Lefarr told the story of the journey, setting
out all that had happened. When he was
finished, he invited every man to examine
the claw and hold it if they wished. None
did. Instead, they turned to the man who
had discovered it and asked him what was
to be done with this wonder.
That question had been on Harlans
mind all night. First, he said, let us be
clear about one thing. Ive spoken with
our medic, Terance Humbey, and he

agrees with me that the claw is not of

human origin. It therefore cannot be the
remains of Agawin.
Agawin was a winged man, Hugo
reasoned. Is it not possible that he
evolved claws like a bird?
The men murmured in agreement.
Thats not the feeling it gives me,
said Harlan. He spoke boldly, aiming his
words around the circle. I was one with
the dragon for long enough to know that
the claw came from its kind, not from
ours.
Very well, said Hugo. This we must
accept. But why was it placed in the dais
at all? What significance does it have?
Aye, and what power? said one of the
men, which raised an even louder hubbub
of voices.

Hugo clapped his hands for silence.

Friends, Bernard Brotherton will speak
on this matter.
All eyes turned towards the tech:nician.
Bernard, the bottom half of his face
now shaded with a jet-black stubble, said
this: The claw was not placed in the
dais, it was hidden. It was meant to be
discovered by someone with the capacity
to understand complex math:e:matical
patterns. What this tells us is that whoever
set the key was intelligent themselves.
Roderic raised his hand. Could it be
that the claw was secreted in the dais to
protect it when the land was Re:duced?
Very possibly, said Bernard.
Who by Agawin or the beast? Colm
said.
That we dont know.

Well, we have it and that is that, said

Hugo. Harlan, as its finder, you must be
accountable for its safe keeping. The tribe
will aid you and protect you in any way it
can, but I urge you to keep the discovery
hidden at least until we ascertain what it
might be used for. We are now in the
dangerous position of knowing something
about the Dead Lands that the Aunts dont.
The meeting is closed.
Harlan looked at Hugo and nodded. He
slipped off his seat, wincing as his injured
foot touched the ground. It had been
strapped with rough bandages by Terance
that morning, after the painful descent
from the hill. He hobbled into the circle
and picked up the claw. Before we
disperse, does any man know the word
Isenfier or the name Gawain?

The men glanced at one another and

shook their heads. Why do you ask?
said Thomas Spilo, whose whole face
was surrounded with dark curly hair.
The words came to me when the
dragon commingled, though in what
capacity I couldnt be sure. Harlan
looked at Lefarr, who cast his eyes down.
He slipped the claw into his robe and
limped away.
That was dangerous, Mathew said,
when they were back in his hut. Why
didnt you tell them that Isenfier was a
warning?
Harlan threw the question back. Why
didnt you?
Lefarr sighed and sank into his crosslegged pose. I didnt want to alarm them.
But Colm knows the truth. He may not

keep it to himself for long.

Then wed better do as Hugo
implied, said Bernard. And find out
what that thing is for.
Harlan held the claw up to his face,
massaging the tip between his thumb and
forefinger. Theres something fluid in
here that I cant squeeze out.
Is it wise to? said Lefarr. What if
its toxic?
Harlan clicked his tongue and thought
about it. Do you have anything clean and
white I could shake a droplet onto?
Actually, I do. Mathew took a sheet
of paper from his robe, which he unfolded
in front of the others. Its a letter from
my grandmother to my grandfather, just
before he died. She liked the oldfashioned permanence of writing. I

managed to smuggle it out of my pod when

the Re:movers came for me. Its a little
crumpled. I had to crush it into my hand
when the machines stripped me.
Harlan pushed his tongue between his
lips and grimaced. Mathew, I cant use
that.
Its all right, he said. My
grandmother would have been proud to
know that her words were being mixed
with the essence of a dragon.
Harlan smiled and took the letter from
him. Ill aim at a corner, he said. Yet,
no matter how hard he shook, nothing
would leave the tip of the claw. This is
bizarre, he said, looking at it end on.
Im convinced I can see a tiny aperture
with the fluid welling up behind. It ought
to come out.

Before Bernard could reply with a

swatch of phys:ics, Mathew said, What
happens if you touch the tip to the paper?
He looked at the scientists and shrugged.
Harlan tried it. He scratched the claw
down a margin of the letter and a thin
vertical line was produced. Thats
extraordinary, he breathed. But there it
was: a line, coloured green.
Then its a pen? Bernard queried,
craning his neck to see it.
But why? said Lefarr. Why hide
away a pen?
Maybe, said Harlan, looking at the
letter and its beautiful script, its not the
pen that matters, but the words it writes.
And he applied the claw to the bottom of
the paper and wrote, ISENFIER, in small
block letters.

For two heartbeats, nothing happened.

But Harlan was sure he could feel the
world turning. Whatever force his mind
was resonating with suddenly moved his
gaze to the door. Firebird, he
whispered, just before the cry went up
outside.
Firebird! Firebird!
And then the world was indeed turning.
And the first jet of flame hit the roof of
the hut.

7
Within moments, the calls had changed in
both frequency and length. Fire! the men
were shouting wildly. The accumulated
thunder of their running feet shook the
ground on which Harlan was sitting. A
small portion of the roof cover crackled.
Cinders fell from its disappearing edges
as the fire took hold and the weave was
eaten up in a running line.
Mathew leaped to his feet. Quickly.
We have to get out before it collapses.
He came over and shouldered Harlan
upright, then ran into the daylight, shouting
for help.
By the time Bernard and Harlan had
joined him, most of the men were grouped

together, busily watching the sky. Some

were helping others to clear what they
could from the huts on fire. Harlan
counted five in total. No one was running
for water, he noticed. But then, what good
would it have done? The fires were raging
too fast to be contained. And even if
sufficient water could be brought, the men
had no means of spraying it onto the
flames.
There! cried a voice laced with
resentment. Thomas Spilo pointed
upwards through a break in the smoke.
Where? What are we looking at?
Harlan said, spinning.
Black firebird, right overhead,
whispered Mathew. He stepped sideways
to gain a better view.
Black? said Bernard.

And then Harlan saw it, partially

eclipsed by drifting smoke. Its coming
down, he said. Its going to attack.
Its dilating its nostrils, someone
shouted. A sign that the bird was making
fire.
Run! barked Lefarr.
The men scattered. All except one. In
three quick strides, Colm Fellowes was at
the nearest hut. In a display of brute
strength, he ripped away an upright used
to frame the door. Yelling a ferocious
challenge, he came back into the clearing.
The bird angled its descent path towards
him. The whole tribe were urging Colm to
stand away. But Colm, his hut destroyed,
his life undone by Aunts and Re:movers,
his mind addled by what he had seen in
the tower, was determined to stand and

fight. He swung out as the bird swooped

low. The bird made a strange kind of
caarking noise and the clearing was lost
in a brief flash of orange. No scientist had
ever been able to explain how a creature
half the size of a small child was able to
produce such a vigorous burst of
expanding flame. But Harlan would
witness it twice that morning, in all its
terrible glory. The blow Colm Fellowes
had been trying to land span him round in
an arc of fury. So feral was his lunge that
the wood slipped tamely out of his hands
and fell to the ground with a meaningless
clunk. The bird rushed by, unharmed. But
Colms robe had taken fire from the hem
to the belt. He held out his arms and
screamed.
Mathew and Terance were the first to

reach him. They brought him down and

rolled him across the earth in a bid to
smother the worst of the flames. Then
Hugo was there, beating Colms legs with
another robe. By the time that water had
been brought and the fire stopped, Colm
had passed out in a shaking fit. Most of his
robe had disintegrated. What was left was
welded to his blistered skin.
Thomas Spilo thundered, Why is it
doing this? What does it want?
But it was Bernard who suddenly
claimed everyones attention. Look
there! He pointed towards Lefarrs hut.
The firebird was perched on what
remained of the badly-scorched walls,
eyeing the tribe with malevolent interest.
Its scanning us, said Bernard.
And as usual, he was right. The birds

fain touched the mind of every man

present, but its gaze came to rest on only
one of them: Harlan.
Hugo Abbot spread his hands and urged
the men to be silent. It seems to want
you, he said to Harlan, or what you
found in the tower. We cant defend
ourselves against such a force. Whatever
it wants, I beg you, give it up. Dont let
another man be burned.
Mathew Lefarr drew alongside Harlan.
Speaking quietly, out of earshot of the
others, he said, Is this the Shadow you
were warned of?
Harlan made no reply. He stepped
forward until his image had filled the
birds eye. He drew the claw from his
robe.
The bird hissed and laid its ear tufts

back.
Its frightened of it, Mathew
muttered.
Harlan tightened his grip. Right away
he achieved what no one else on
Co:pern:ica ever had: a mental link with a
firebird. But as his consciousness jostled
with that of the birds, he was horrified to
find that he had actually commingled with
something alien. The bird or rather its
mind was dead. Another entity was
using the body as a vessel. It was quick to
identify itself.
We are Ix, it said.
We. Not I, Harlan noted.
It swarmed around his mind. Probing.
Dangerous. We are a Cluster , it said in
response to his thoughtwave. You are the
one who opened the portal.

Harlans mind flashed to his

experiment. This thing had come through
the rift?
You will guide us to a fire star , the Ix
said coldly, applying itself to
indiscriminate parts of Harlans brain and
tormenting his neural network in the
process. Externally, the watching men saw
him quake, but no one dared interrupt. The
involuntary spasm of muscles forced his
hand to close tighter round the claw. A
fresh wave of energy surged through his
mind. To his surprise, the Ix Cluster was
suppressed a little. Now Harlan seized the
chance to interrogate them.
Kill me and youll never get back, he
said. Where are you from?
The Cluster welled up in a flare of
resistance. We have travelled from

Isenfier.
Isenfier. A planet? Another dimension?
No, Harlan realised. It was neither of
those. The site of a conflict loomed in his
mind. Isenfier was a battlefield. He
shuddered and let this pass. Why are you
here? What led you to the portal?
We are following the beacon , they
said.
In that instant, Harlans heart nearly
stopped as images of David swarmed
through his mind, most notably of the night
terrors at the therapy centre. So this is
what had been coming for his son. With
fierce intent, he drew upon the strength of
the claw again. His consciousness
powered through the heart of the Cluster,
dividing the Ix and weakening them.
Aware he couldnt hold them in this state

for long, he sought a small colony and

separated it out. Why are you trying to
reach this boy?
The colony said: The beacon resonates
in him.
What is the reason for the beacon?
To seek help from this world.
Who is sending the signal?
His dragon, they said, reclustering with
such malevolent purpose that Harlans
body collapsed to its knees. Through sheer
strength of will, he raised a hand to keep
the tribe back. It was vital not to break the
link with the bird. For in the instant the Ix
had spoken of the dragon, they had also
shown Harlan an image of it. A tiny
creature, almost a caricature of its kind.
Small, green, trumpet-shaped nostrils,
oddly spiked scales, large flat feet. There

was infinite kindness in its oval eyes.

Strangest of all, it was holding a pen (or
maybe a pencil). But what connection
could such a thing have with David?
They are one, said the Cluster, reading
Harlans thoughts.
Across worlds?
Across time. You will show us the
location of a fire star. Now.
Harlan sank further, grimacing in pain.
The muscles in the arm that held the claw
felt as if they were raw and bleeding. He
bravely resisted letting go. Tell me about
the dragon. Why does it carry a pen?
This time, there was a pause before the
Ix replied. You will drop the creat:or .
You will give the claw to us.
Creat:or. Harlan measured the word
carefully. He thought about the talk hed

been having with Mathew just before the

fires were set. How hed written ISENFIER
on the paper. Had he brought this
devastation on them? Was it possible the
universe acted on the words that were
written with the claw, or brought about a
close response to them? Was it possible
that dragons could shape dark matter? He
let the last of these thoughts leak out and
sensed anxiety throughout the Cluster.
Mathew was right; the Ix were frightened
of the gift from the tower, wary of what it
could do. Harlan decided to put it to the
test. Leaning forwards, he stretched out
his hand as if he was going to lay the claw
on the ground. But at the final moment, he
flipped it and tried to write GAWAININ the
dust. His intention was to call up the
creature from the tower. But the Ix were

quick to spot the danger. Harlan had

managed no more than the G when the
bird descended with its claws
outstretched, ripping at his hands and arms
and face. In the mle, Harlan dropped the
claw. At the same time, a knife flashed
through the air and struck the bird in the
side of the neck. An accurate throw, but
not a perfect one. The knife jiggled in the
wound and fell out in a splash of bright
green blood. The firebird screeched, more
annoyed than hurt. It turned to see Mathew
running towards it wielding a rock. But by
then it had snatched the claw from the
ground and was able to defend its prize
with fire. Mathew hurled his rock through
a wall of flame. It missed the bird by
several feet. But the fire did not miss him.
It caught hold of the arm of his robe and

forced him to spin away, crying out in

pain. He was surrounded by men and
doused right away, lucky to escape with
only superficial burns.
Once again, the bird flew to the walls
of the hut, where it rested, holding the
claw in its beak.
Harlan pressed his lips together,
knowing he had lost. But there, in the
shadow of the Isle of Alavon, a pact was
struck. Wherever you go, Ill find you,
he said, staring at the bird with as much
raw malice as it was reserving for him.
The bird tilted its head and made a record
of the face. Then it spread its wings and
was gone.
Brave words, Harlan, but hard to
follow through. Lefarr idled up to him,
clutching at his arm. Wed be old and

ugly in the time it would take us to journey

back to Central always assuming we
went the right way. What did you learn?
Its alien. Its going after my son.
Lefarr shook his head. Theres nothing
we can do.
But Harlan Merriman had other ideas.
Without another word, he walked across
to Colm.
The engineer was still laid out on the
ground, surrounded by a group of
concerned-looking men. A light blanket
had been draped across his body. Terance
was offering him sips of water. But Colm
was barely breathing. He was going to
die.
Harlan knelt down. Colm, he
whispered.
Harlan? Terance frowned. What are

you doing? He cant speak. The pain

would be unbearable for him.
Please, let him try, Harlan said. He
touched Colms shoulder. One of the few
parts of his body that still looked human.
Colm, do the Re:movers have any
weaknesses?
Harlan, in the name of Agawin, let the
man rest. Hugo Abbot had joined in the
argument now.
Colm opened his mouth and made a
gurgling sound.
He wants to say something, Mathew
said.
Colm nodded his head a fraction.
This had better be good, Terance
growled. He moved aside to let Harlan
kneel close.
Colm, is there any way to defeat the

machines? You worked on them once. Can

they be disabled?
A slight moan left the engineers mouth.
Water, he croaked.
Water. He wants water, Hugo said.
Colm shook his head painfully.
No, he means water, Mathew said.
Water: thats what we attack them with.
Attack? said Terance. What are you
talking about?
How, Colm? Harlan asked. He bent
his ear to the dying mans lips and listened
for a good half minit. By the end, Colms
body was shaking badly and his lungs
were making a dreadful rasp.
Enough, Terance said, pulling Harlan
away. Within moments, however, the
rasping had ceased and Colm Fellowes
was still.

The men lowered their heads.

After a respectful period of silence,
Harlan said, Call a meeting, Hugo. Now.
The whole tribe.
What did he tell you? Mathew asked.
Harlan looked at the burning huts.
How to make our way out of here, he
said.

8
This is madness! Madness, I say!
Terance Humbey struck his fist into his
open palm and stared at the tribesmen
around the circle. We have just buried
one of our strongest men. How many more
are likely to die if we try to fight the
Re:movers?
I agree, its dangerous, Harlan said.
All the same, I ask the tribe to consider
it. The bird is possessed by a creature of
darkness, an entity from another world. It
has gone to Central with the claw of a
dragon. Who knows what evil it might do
there?
So you are asking us to put our lives at
risk to help those whove sent us here?

said Hugo.
Let us not forget that our wives and
children are in Central, said Roderic.
And the birds, said Bernard. Dont
we owe some allegiance to them? He
made a slight gesture over his shoulder.
The closest of the green fields was right
behind him.
Several men grunted their approval for
this.
We should at least hear Harlans
plan, said Mathew. Then we vote.
Harlan, if the vote goes against you, this is
done. Are you agreed?
Harlan chewed his lip. Agreed.
Then tell the tribe what you propose
we do.
We light a fire, Harlan said, without
a moments hesitation. A big one. High.

On the Isle. In the tower.

That would be a sacrilege, Hugo
said.
No, said Harlan, turning to face him.
Agawin was born of fire. Even Colm
sensed that when we gathered round the
dais. Fire is the medium of the legend,
Hugo. Agawin, or his dragons, will aid us.
Im sure.
Fine sentiments, said Terance,
easily forgotten in front of a Re:mover.
You plan to use the fire to draw them
here?
Yes. Theyll come in a taxicar. We set
a trap. Disable them. Steal the car.
Murmurs started up all around the
circle. Hugo immediately called for quiet.
Tell us what you learned from Colm at
the end.

Harlan pressed his hands together for a

moment. If the Re:movers are immersed
in water and held there, they will
malfunction.
Well, thank goodness for that,
declared Thomas. For a sec, I thought it
was going to be dangerous!
The circle exploded in a riot of
laughter.
Ive always wanted a pond. Ill get on
to it right away.
We dont need a body of water, said
Harlan, raising his voice above the
guffaws. We have the marshes.
The laughter trailed away into silence.
How would you get them to it? asked
Hugo.
Please tell me youve got something
clever, whispered Mathew.

Harlan shook his head. One of us,

maybe two, needs to lead them across the
most treacherous of the bogs.
Among the grunts of incredulity Roderic
said, Its not possible, Harlan. Even if
you didnt put a foot out of place their
scanners would bring you down.
Not if the distance was right, said
Bernard. The scanners are short range
devices. Harlans plan could work, but the
timing would need to be perfect.
Terance Humbey sighed and slapped
his hands to his thighs. If we fail, we all
die. You realise that? He flicked a stone
into the circle. No one made a comment.
Then we vote, Mathew said. Those
in favour of Harlans plan, stand up.
Mathew was off his tree stump first. Then
Harlan. And Bernard. Until eventually,

every man present was on his feet.

Carried, Hugo said, with a nervous
gulp. I move we draw lots to determine
which men will run from the machines.
I volunteer, said Mathew. He raised
his hand quickly to quash the muttering.
Im the youngest and the swiftest. I know
the marsh well. It would be foolish to
send in anyone but me.
And me, said a quiet voice.
Surprisingly, Terance stepped forward.
But youre our medic, said Harlan.
To which Terance replied, A medic
who will be of no use to anyone if the
Re:movers survive. I ran for pleasure
before I was sent here. Im fitter than
most. Like Mathew, Ive studied the layout
of the marsh. We might as well make use
of that.

Then its settled, said Hugo. Harlan,

our lives now rest upon you. What would
you have us do?
Harlan pointed to the Isle of Alavon.
Gather dry grasses. As many as you can
carry. Take them to the tower. We need to
make a beacon. A light that can be seen all
over the Dead Lands.
Its going to take several days, said
Roderic.
Time is not something we are short
of, said Hugo. Begin.
The men peeled away, leaving Mathew
to speak alone to Harlan and Bernard.
You realise the Re:movers might not
come? And even if they do and we get our
ride back, this alien creature you speak of
may have done all it needs to do by then.
At least well know that we tried,

said Bernard.
Harlan nodded and clapped a hand to
Mathews shoulder. Have faith, there
may be a twist to this, yet. Now, lets find
something that will burn.

9
Little did Harlan Merriman know that
there would indeed be a strange twist to
come. While he and his tribe were
building their pyre, the black firebird was
flying in haste through the night, crossing
over the Dead Lands and the imagineered
security zone around Co:pern:ica Central,
back to Bushley and the librarium there. It
was an exhausting flight, hampered by the
need to take in air through the nostrils
while the beak was clamped around the
dragons claw. It could, of course, have
carried the claw in its feet. But after days
of occupation and lack of vital nutrients,
the muscular structure of the body was
fading. The risk of losing the claw was

too great. The answer, the Cluster told

itself, was to fly through the physical
discomfort, find another stupid bird and
take control of that. Fresh wings would
take it anywhere it needed to go, and there
were plenty of those in the eyrie.
As it approached the colossal building,
stabbed like a giant spike into the earth, it
was surprised to see a room on the lower
floor on fire. Higher up, a dozen or more
birds were beginning to flock, possibly
getting ready to deal with the flames. The
black bird tipped a wing and circled a
moment, using the clouds to keep itself
hidden. This could be a useful distraction,
it thought. An opportunity to scrutinise the
roof of the building where the auma of this
world seemed to radiate from. Then again,
how much effort would it take to glide

down to that room and see what was

happening? This failing body still had
strength enough for that.
So it landed on the sill and immediately
observed three prominent life forms: the
girl that seemed to inhabit the building,
and two more firebirds, including one that
spoke. Aubrey? it said in a questioning
manner. The black bird caarked in its
throat. It had made itself known. That was
foolish. This cream one was clever. It was
sure to come looking. Unless it could be
the Clusters new body
But just as the Ix prepared to transfer,
one of the transport vehicles appeared.
Out of it jumped the lifeform, David, who
had sometimes lived in the building, too.
The black bird cursed and took to the sky,
hiding itself in the plumes of smoke. It

landed on another sill twelve floors up.

From there it watched the flock come
swooping down and follow David into the
burning room.
It was a trivial setback. Nothing more.
Rest, recover, relocate. The Ix prepared
itself to fight another day. But as it folded
down the firebirds wings, the Cluster
grew aware of another presence. A potent
source of fain, looming right behind it.
The bird whipped round, with every
intention of flaming the stalker, but the
claw it was carrying in its mouth
prevented it. (Design!) By the time the
claw had been spat, it was too late. A
sack, imagineered from the strongest
fireproof material there could be, was
over the birds body, knotted with rope of
a similar strength. And though the Ix

Cluster tried to escape and overcome its

captors mind, the captor had prepared for
that, too. A powerful neural emission put
the creatures fain into immediate stasis.
Aunt Gwyneth bent down and picked up
the claw. Dragon. It spoke to her from
every fibre. Not a bad result at all, after
the disaster with those useless twins.
Extending her fain, she lightly probed the
consciousness in the sack.
Well, well, she whispered. So,
thats what you are. Pure fain, inverted.
Wickedness in a bag.
She pulled back as the creature tried
again to possess her. She must be careful.
This thing was clever. And strong.
Already she could sense it splitting and
regrouping, trying to find any source of
weakness in her mind.

Trust me, that wont work , she told it.

A somewhat hollow threat as it happened.
In truth, it was all she could do to maintain
the delicate balance of power. If she let
down her guard, this being would kill her.
A tricky situation. Her only option was to
negotiate.
Keeping up the arrogant front, she said,
Im prepared to make youan offer.
What is your proposal? the Ix replied.
Aunt Gwyneth turned to the daisy fields.
Not since her time in the Aunt Academy,
learning what was right and what was
wrong, had she been so entranced by the
concept of power. A union, she said.
A commingling?
A union. Under my command.
There was a pause. The Ix said, We
agree.

And the most unholy alliance in the

history of Co:pern:ica began right there.
Though it nearly didnt.
As Aunt Gwyneth slackened her grip
and let the Ix merge with her neural
pathways, an almighty struggle began. The
Ix was a thing that possessed no
conscience. What else could it do but
betray her trust, even though that trust was
admittedly misplaced? It swept through
her mind and tried at once to assume
control. It was a close-run thing. Her
assessment of the Cluster had been quite
accurate. Powerful. Ingenious. A
dedicated killer. But she, an Aunt
Su:perior, the Aunt Su:perior, had not
risen to that rank through kindness and
courtesy. She had power and cunning
in abundance, too. Turning her fain to near

maximum, she broke the Cluster, as

Harlan had done, and subjugated the Ix in
different parts of her mind. Try that again
and Ill eliminate you, colony by colony,
she told them.
Wisely, the Ix flattened off a little.
Now you will tell me why you are here.
We seek control of the nexus, they said.
Aunt Gwyneth relaxed her fain into
theirs. A nexus. An entanglement of time.
How interesting. There is a time point
here? Where to? she asked.
The Ix floated into her consciousness.
The nexus triangulates between three
worlds. On Co:pern:ica, within this
tower of stone. On a thought dimension
called Ki:mera, colonised by the spirit of
dragons. And on a low-level physical
plane, where it resolves at the battle of

Isenfier.
What is the name of the last world?
said Gwyneth.
The Ix pulsed and seemed unwilling to
answer. A blue planet of rock and water,
they said, once used as a dragon
breeding ground. Its name is Earth.

Part Four

which has its beginnings

and its peculiar
endings
in a remarkable reordering
of the Bushley
Librarium
March 11 032

1
In the aftermath of the librarium blaze,
David carried Rosa into the daisy fields to
make sure she was able to breathe clean
air. The firebirds, their job complete,
dispersed. As she watched them heading
back toward the upper floors, Aurielle
glanced at Azkiar and saw the
despondency in his eyes. He needed a
task, she thought, to take his mind from the
lingering smell of burning paper. She
fluttered to his side and suggested he fly
off in search of Aubrey. Azkiar crossed
the tips of his beak. He was keen to make
amends for the damage hed caused, but he
could see no point in scouring the eyrie
looking for Aubrey.

So Aurielle told him what she had seen.

The black firebird. The blood. The
distance in its eyes. Firebirds are never
black, said Azkiar. Aurielle recalled the
image on the sill. I know but it looked
like Aubrey, she said.
Azkiar blew a heavy sigh. Aurielles
visual sensors had surely been smokestained. Shed seen a silhouette, nothing
more, he thought; it happened in a window
in the eyrie every day. But she had that
fretful look in her eye, the one that always
made him want to do things for her. He
preened a loose feather and said he would
try, even though he was sure that Aubrey
had simply fallen into hibernation
somewhere. A firebird could sleep for
half a spin, if it wished. But it would do
no harm to run a quick check of the lower

floors. Especially if it stopped Aurielle

pitying him.
He found the body on Level 12. On the
floorboards, underneath the window,
lifeless. Dropped there like a discarded
rag. For several moments, Azkiar couldnt
approach it. He had seen a dead firebird
twice before, but never in a state like this.
Carefully, he tottered up, extended a foot
and tilted the flaccid head towards him.
He studied the glazed and faraway eye.
The ducts had opened, the tear had
discharged. Some days ago by the look of
things. The blood mark was recent (and a
concern), but it was the condition of the
plumage that made his toes curl. The
feathers lacked colour, just as Aurielle
had said. But they were a uniform grey,
not a midnight black. Their shine had

disappeared, leaving them brittle, ugly and

dry. He rocked the body lightly under his
foot. Even with pressure, it did not break
down. That puzzled him deeply. Normally,
a firebirds body would disintegrate
shortly after its tear had been shed.
Something was preventing that from
happening here. It was as if poor Aubrey
had been frozen in a kind of undead form,
hovering, as it were, between two worlds.
Azkiar took a pace back. His first impulse
was to burn this abomination flat. But
Aurielle would have his ear tufts for
nostril cleaners if a fire kicked up again as
a result. So, with a gentle rrrh of respect,
he left the body where it was and
spiralled to the ground again to make his
report.
By now, the girl Rosa had started to

recover. She was sitting up against the

wall of the eyrie, being closely attended
by David. Aurielle and Aleron were
perched on a window ledge nearby.
Azkiar landed in the daisy field, staying
well away from the man hed once
attacked. Rrrh! he called, to get Aurielles
attention. Ive found Aubrey. Hes dead.
Upstairs.
Uh? The sound of Rosas voice made
all three firebirds look her way. Pushing
David aside, she scrabbled to her feet and
took a pace towards Azkiar. The red
firebird poddled back, looking confused.
Hey, Rosa. Sit down. What are you
doing? You need to rest. David was at
her shoulder in a moment.
I heard it, she said.
Heard what?

Heard it talk.
David glanced at the birds. All three
had taken off by now and were flying for a
window ledge higher up the building.
Level 12, Rosa muttered, counting the
floors. She turned towards the librarium
door.
Rosa, wait. Slow down. David
twisted her round.
Get off, she responded, flinging him
aside. Did I ask you to come back and
start interfering?
Look, he said, pushing his hands into
his pockets, I know you hate me for
running off, but I had to leave the way I
did. My father passed me secret
information, something I could only see on
his computer. If the Aunts had found it, I
would have been sent to the Dead Lands

with him.
And this is a bad thing?
Thats not fair. He took an angry step
forward. It brought him closer to her than
hed meant to be. So close that his breath
made waves in her hair. I care about the
librarium, just as much as I care about
But there the sentiments seemed to fail him
and his words trailed off into silent
ambiguity.
Rosa gulped and turned her face a little
further from his. After a pause that seemed
like forever she said, One of the birds is
dead.
How do you know?
The red one told the others. I
understood what it said.
How?
I dont know. But Im going in to find

them whether you come or not. And away

she went again.
Together, they hurtled through the
librarium, letting it guide them to Level
12. As they burst into the room where
Aubrey lay, the firebirds scattered away
from the body. Azkiar was quick to spread
his muscular wings and make himself look
as fearsome as possible.
Its all right, Rosa said, raising her
hands for calm. She made a rhhh-ing
noise in the back of her throat. All three
firebirds sat up straight, their ear tufts
springing out like antennae.
Well, that got their attention, David
muttered. He knelt by the body, keeping a
wary eye on Azkiar. Ask them how this
happened.
David, Im not exactly fluent.

Just try, he said, checking Aubreys

eye.
What followed was a kind of bird call
at dusk. For several moments the room
was filled with every manner of click and
rasp. When it was done, Rosa pressed her
fingertips together and said, They dont
know. But its very unnatural. The creamcoloured one is frightened. She says the
last time she saw this bird it was black.
David raised his gaze towards Aurielle,
who spoke to him.
What did she say?
She wants us to go upstairs with her.
Rrrh!
Shes got something important to show
us.
Rrrh-rruurr-rrrh!
There was a pause. David said, That

sounded intense.
She was just askingif my arm was
all right.
And is it?
Rosa let her fingers hover over the
scars. They were raw, but healing
remarkably quickly. Just sore, she
muttered.
You should get to one of the rest
rooms and treat it. How did it happen?
She told him briefly all that she
remembered.
He took her hand a moment and looked
at the pattern. This is what we saw in
your dragon book. Did they do it
deliberately?
I dont know, Rosa said, and took her
hand back.
David slipped his under Aubreys body

and lifted the firebird off the floor. Tell

these guys to organise a watch. Until we
know what killed this bird, we should be
on our guard.
Rosa looked to one side. While she
didnt like the way hed assumed
command, she had to agree that his
motives were right. She communicated his
words to Aurielle. Azkiar and Aleron
were immediately dispatched from the
room.
Tell her well come upstairs, but not
until weve taken care of this. He
showed Aurielle the body and gestured to
the window.
Aurielle chattered a short response.
Rosa said, a little huffily, She wants to
know if she can stay with us.
Shes got wings. We can hardly stop

her.
She was being polite, David. She
wants your permission. The birds are
calling you the new curator.
Me? How did I get elect? He
stopped there, knowing that nothing he
could say would come out favourably.
Fine, he said finally, and turned towards
the door.
The descent to the ground was slower than
usual. When David stepped out into the
sunlit daisy fields, he looked for a spot
where the flowers were plentiful and
pretty, then dropped to one knee and put
Aubrey down. As he stood up he
imagineered a spade. In one movement he
swung it round and started to dig. When
the hole was made, he laid the body in it

and stood back so that Aurielle could see.

The firebird made a little croaking sound
but did not seem to object to the ritual.
Do you want to say anything?
Rosa was standing a couple of feet
away. She shook her head and couldnt
speak.
Will you ask her what colour he was?
Another short dialogue established that
Aubrey had been blue, like the sky.
David nodded. He filled in the hole and
de:constructed the spade. During the dig,
hed been careful not to crush too many of
the daisies. When he laid the main sod
back, most of the flowers were still intact.
As the first breeze took them, the petals
rippled and changed their colour from
white to sky blue. He glanced at Rosa.
There were tear tracks on her cheeks. He

went over and slipped his arm around her.

And there they stood, completely
unaware that from a window on the ninth
floor of the librarium, Aunt Gwyneth was
watching.
Tell me, she said, to the Ix she was
hosting. What happens if David dies?
The Ix will gain control of the nexus.
So why havent you done it? You must
have had countless opportunities to kill
him?
He is strong, said the Ix. The time
point protects him.
In what way?
He can call upon the power of dragons
and other beasts.
Aunt Gwyneth pondered this carefully.
She ran a finger along the claw. Tell me
more about this artefact. What use is it to

us?
The creat:or can only function in the
hands of those who resonate with
dragons. It must be destroyed.
I will be the judge of that, she said
coldly. What if he was to get it David, I
mean?
There was a pause as the Ix swam
round her mind. All of the nexus would be
visible to him. He would see the other
time points to Earth and Ki:mera.
And thereby hold the balance of
power, mused the Aunt. Well, we cant
have that.
Kill him, said the Cluster, trying to
assert itself. The Aunt:Ix could neutralise
David now.
Not yet, she growled, beating it
down. Let the boy work for us first. He

will show us to the upper floors and The

Book of Agawin. When the moment comes,
he will be no match for me.
He is strong, the Ix repeated. How will
it be done?
Hes a construct, she said. And the
one thing constructs have is a template. I
treated the boy once. I flowed into his
auma. I know his strengths which are
considerable, I admit but I also know his
weakness.
You will share this, said the Ix.
And you will be quiet! the Aunt
hissed loudly. She pulled back from the
window, fearful that her outburst might
have been heard. Tossing her head, she
hissed once more. An irritating tic had
developed in one eyelid. A result of
fighting for dominance with the Cluster.

To punish the Ix, she morphed into the

black and white katt again, a form it
considered agile but vulnerable. His
weakness is love for the girl, for his
father, even for his own imperfect katt.
The way to defeat him is to squeeze his
heart. And there is no one better at that
than an Aunt

2
From his position by the grave, David
turned and stared at the librarium
windows. Did you hear something then?
Rosa followed his gaze. What kind of
something?
A hiss, like someone being shushed?
Theres no one here but us and the
birds.
All the same, David squinted hard at the
windows. He had scrutinised a dozen or
more when Rosa grew tired and poked
him in the ribs. What are you doing?
Probing for traces of anything
irregular.
Such as?
He clicked his tongue and looked at

Aurielle, who was waiting patiently for

whatever happened next. I told you Dad
gave me secret information?
Yes, she sighed, not wanting to be
reminded of that parting moment.
It was a film of his time rift
experiment. You remember the portal he
told us about?
Vaguely.
Im pretty sure something came
through it. Not a physical entity, more a
surge of fain. Im concerned it was
responsible for the bird we just buried.
Rosa looked at the building again.
Alien fain? In the librarium?
Something turned that firebird black.
For all we know, it was
Is that a katt? Rosa gasped suddenly.
David panned his gaze sideways and

saw it sitting as calmly as a cloud, on a

ledge some nine floors up. The black and
white katt from Bushley Common. Oh,
no, he groaned. I thought Id left that on
a bench in Bushley. It must have followed
me off the common and hid itself under the
seat of my taxicar.
I dont care how it got here, Rosa
said. Its a katt, in a building full of
birds. Now we know what happened to
the one we just buried! If the red one sees
that, theres going to be carnage. She
looked at Aurielle, who was already
sitting up, puffing out her feathers. With an
uncomfortable rrrh! she took off and flew
away.
Oh, great! Rosa threw out a hand. I
think that cancels our trip upstairs.
David sighed and looked at the katt. It

was washing its paws, totally unfazed.

OK, Ill deal with it. Upstairs can wait.
We need to tidy up after the fire, anyway.
Ill see you in that room. Five minits,
max.
Why did you ever come back? she
grumbled.
He chose to ignore that and hurried on
inside.
When he caught up with her at the scene
of the blaze, he was holding the katt
against his shoulder, gently stroking the
back of its neck. It was purring loudly,
shut-eyed, content.
David, get that out of here, Rosa said
at once. She had found a broom in one of
the utility cupboards and was brushing
loose debris and ash into a pile.
Dont you like them?

Thats hardly the point.

Im not convinced it killed the bird. I
know they like to chase them, but there are
no signs of feathers or blood in its claws.
Its such a friendly little thing. Probably
quite old. I reckon its
Rosa rested her weight on the broom.
She was glaring at him now, her whole
body language telling him he was wasting
his time.
All right, he sighed. Ill take it
away. But its tired. At least let it have a
sleep first. In a blink hed imagineered a
comfortable basket. He placed it on the
single bed that hadnt been burned, where
it could settle and catch the rays of the
sun. He put the katt into it and told it to
behave. The katt stretched, arched its back
and spiralled down. Before long it was

curled up with its tail around its nose.

If it plays up, Ill put it in a cage, he
said.
Rosa shook her head and carried on
sweeping.
For the first time since hed been back,
David let his gaze wander around the
room. It was in a terrible state: charred
shelves, smoke-stained walls, remnants of
book covers everywhere. Rosa winced as
he crouched down and crumbled what
remained of a once-thick paperback. So,
what happened?
In one breath, she brought him up to
speed, telling him how the fire had started
and the Aunts had been stealing the auma
from the books.
So Strmberg was right, he muttered.
He told me the Aunts were planning

something. Ill send him a :com. Hell

want to see this. It has to be illegal, what
they were doing. Aunt Gwyneth will
probably be outlawed for it.
Brr-up, went the katt.
What happened to the device they
were using? He walked around, sifting
the debris with his feet. All of a sudden he
spotted something and pushed aside the
frame of the other, damaged, bed. Is this
it? He held up the pad. The casing was
warped and split along one side. At one
end, its pink neural circuit boards were
visible.
Yes, said Rosa. Useless, right?
He brought it over, smearing cinders off
the screen. From its audio slot came a
weak kind of whirr. He tapped it against
his palm. Nothing happened for a sec.

Then two orange lights flickered on.

Rosa sucked in sharply and let go of the
broom. Despite the clatter as it hit the
floor, David didnt look up right away. He
was trying to read something off the
screen. Eventually, he turned it round and
showed it to her.

Auma transferred, he said. He

brought his gaze level with hers.
She shrugged. So?
He glanced at her arm and seemed to
know. Its gone to you, hasnt it?
(In the basket, the katt pricked an ear.)
Rosa gulped. She picked up the broom
and started pushing again. I didnt know
until Aurielle told me upstairs.
Aurielle?

The cream-coloured bird. Thats her

name. Aurielle, Azkiar, Aleron. Cream,
red, green. She saw the auma go into my
scars. I didnt tell you right away because
my head was still dizzy from the input of
knowledge.
Do you feel OK now?
Mmm. Fine. Ask me anything you like
about furniture design in the forty-ninth
spin it was one of Mr Henrys favourite
topics.
David smiled and looked at what was
left on the shelves. I worked in this room
with Mr Henry once. There was nothing in
these books about language or the birds.
So how are you able to talk to them?
(The katt raised its other ear at that.)
Rosa tidied up the ash and put the
broom aside. I dont know. When I came

round I was just aware that I could, as if it

had been imprinted on me. But theres
more to it than just being able to talk. Ive
been picking up on something more
elemental.
Go on, he said.
She shook her head. Its just an
instinctive feeling, but Im convinced
theres a spiritual link between the birds
and the books. Its got something to do
with the history of the building. When I try
to home in on it, though, all I see is fuzzy
pictures flashing through my head.
Of what? David asked.
She sat down on the bed with her knees
turned in. Dragons, she said, so quietly
that the katt arched up in its basket. And
theres a name. It comes like an echoing
drum.

Agawin?
Yes. Youve heard it too?
He sat down beside her. Counsellor
Strmberg told me theres a book I need to
check.
I know it, Rosa said. He showed it
to me. Its hidden in the room where you
woke up. Its full of weird symbols.
Dragontongue and stuff. I was supposed to
be finding a way to translate it when it all
kicked off with your dad and the Aunts.
Can you take me to it?
Yes, she said, and was about to jump
up when Azkiar appeared on the window
ledge. Uh-oh. This doesnt look good.
There was menace in the red firebirds
eyes, the kind of look that suggested he
held the katt responsible for Aubreys
death. But Aunt Gwyneth was not at all

troubled. Indeed, her devious mind had

swiftly conjured up a way to turn this
situation to her advantage. As Azkiar flew
in, the ash pile erupted and reformed into
a dark-winged creature. It appeared in
front of the startled firebird as a hissing,
ugly, ball of venom. Before Azkiar could
change course or think to draw flame, the
creature had attached itself to his chest
and exposed a wide array of needle-like
teeth, ready to sink into his neck.
Rosa screamed. And David was on his
feet in an instant. But even before his
amazing mind could imagineer a suitable
form of defence, the katt had come
bounding across the room and in one leap
had taken the creature down. As they hit
the floor together, the creature broke free
and turned to look its assailant in the eye.

What followed wasnt pretty. With a flash

of claws that saw dark-coloured blood
and minor body parts sprayed against a
wall, the katt brought the fight to a swift
conclusion. When it was done, it stood
over the corpse for a moment, threw a
dispassionate glance at Azkiar (dazed and
confused, but otherwise OK) then turned
and climbed back into its basket. What
was left of the strange black creature
dissolved into a puddle and drained away
through a knot in the floorboards.
Azkiar, his pride dented, glared at the
katt then left the room on a powerful
wingbeat, undoing Rosas efforts with the
broom in the process. Shaking her head at
the mess hed created she asked, rather
fearfully, What was that thing?
Our mystery fain, hopefully, David

muttered, though there was nothing left to

commingle with or probe. Even the wall
stains had withered away. And how had a
simple katt, someones long-discarded
construct, been able to deal with the threat
of an alien life force? He turned and
walked back to the basket, running a
knuckle between the katts ears. Its left
eye was twitching. Maybe a form of battle
fatigue. Once again, as hed done on the
common, he extended his fain and probed
its mind. Nothing. A katt, full of vague
daydreams. But of course Aunt Gwyneth
had prepared herself for this. It had taken
little effort for the Aunt Su:perior to cloak
her true identity.
So, David said, does it stay or does
it go?
Rosa watched the katt settle down as if

it had done nothing more than knock a

small ball round the room for several
minits. I guess its earned its place, she
murmured. But I still dont know what
we should do with it. said Rosa.
Aunt Gwyneth purred. Her trick, it
seemed, had succeeded.
Well, we could give it a home and a
name. (Youd better make it a good one ,
Aunt Gwyneth was thinking darkly.) I
reckon its a male. What about Felix?
Male? Aunt Gwyneth almost bit into his
finger. (Though the irony of the last two
letters did amuse her.)
Rosa shuddered. Whatever. I just want
to get out of this room now. Do you still
want to see the book?
Of course.
Miaow! went Felix, reaching out a

paw.
All right, you can come too, David
said. And resting the katt against his
shoulder, he followed Rosa out of the
room, Aunt Gwyneth dribbling on his
jacket for good measure.
In Mr Henrys favourite reference room,
the one in which David had recovered
from his coma, Rosa slid the ladders
along the shelves, riding them just like the
old curator would have done. This panel
is false, she said, banging it at roughly
the same place she thought he had. After
three attempts, the panel swung open.
David looked into the secret but
empty compartment.
Oh, Rosa said. Her shoulders sagged.
Thats weird. He definitely took it from

here.
David put the katt down and strolled
around the room, running his fingers over
similar panels. He must have put it back
somewhere else. There could be any
number of hiding places in the building.
Theres one here. Rosa went to the
cupboard that held the animal book. It was
still there, but The Book of Agawin
wasnt.
David took it out and flipped through
the pages. Wow. Have you seen this?
Yes, Rosa said. Strmberg showed
me. All those creatures died out ages ago.
The one youre on is called a squirrel, I
think.
David stared at the picture for the
longest time.
Whats the matter? she asked.

Ive seen these creatures before, he

muttered. He took the auma pad out of his
pocket.
David, what are you doing?!
I can feel the pad humming.
What? Well, switch it off. Just smash
the thing, will you?
He held it in the air as she tried to grab
it. No, he said. You dont understand.
The book wants this. I can sense it in my
fain. Its putting some of its auma into the
pad so I can absorb it, just like you did.
All its doing is He blinked and cut
off.
What? she demanded.
The auma pad buzzed. Its telling me
its coming.
What is? Whats coming?
A squirrel is going to come to the

librarium. And he stared at the bushytailed mammal again.

And in his mind, it sat up and smiled.

3
Aunt Gwyneth said, Tell me about the
creature.
The Ix Cluster swelled at the forefront
of her mind. The construct we created to
deceive the humans?
There was no we about it. That was
all your doing. What was that vile
abomination?
A darkling, the Cluster replied. A form
the Ix take on a physical plane.
Are there darklings on the planet you
called Earth?
There was a violent pulse of energy
behind the katts ear. A colony were
defeated at the battle of Isenfier, but the
Shadow will bring them back. We will

take the Earth and the fire at its core.

The Ix will be victorious. The Inversion
will succeed.
Miarrrgh! went the katt and threw its
head to one side as it fought to stop the
Cluster surging again.
David stopped what he was doing and
came over to the basket.
Is it all right? asked Rosa.
Just dreaming, I think. He put a finger
beneath the katts chin and coochied it.
Aunt Gwyneth responded by bubbling
saliva over his knuckles.
Nice, David said and wiped his hand
on his jeans.
For the past two days, he and Rosa had
been hard at work cleaning and restoring
the burned out room. No firebird had
visited in that time. And they had still to

locate The Book of Agawin. Nothing more

had been said about the animal book or
Davids prediction about the squirrel. Life
was back to normal, it seemed.
None of this was sitting well with Aunt
Gwyneth. Tired of her confinement in a
basket, and a form which continually made
her want to kick the scruff of her neck, she
had resorted to interrogating the Ix. This
was a dangerous practice. For if she
opened her mind too widely to them, the
struggle to maintain dominance usually
resulted in a physical outburst, and that
drew Davids attention. But if she kept her
mind in stasis, she learned nothing of the
alien lifeform either. When they did speak,
the dark beings kept no secrets. Even she
was chilled by their sweeping arrogance.
So confident were they of ruling the nexus

that they always spoke openly of their

battle plans. Isenfier. The Shadow. What
they called The Inversion. Aunt Gwyneth
was as much confused by these terms as
the firebirds were after centuries of
guarding the tapestry on Floor 108. But
she was in the unique position of
commingling with the beings, who not
only knew of the connection between the
three worlds, but had visited time points
on two of them at least.
She chose one of the terms and asked
about it. Tell me about Isenfier. You lost
a battle there?
No, the battle is suspended in time.
Suspended? How is that possible?
It was done with a creat:or.
Aunt Gwyneth thought about the
dragons claw, which, for safetys sake,

shed hidden. Those things can control

time?
The creat:or can shape dark matter, but
those who wield it must resonate
precisely with the nexus and the universe.
Who could wield such a thing?
(Apart from David, she added as an
afterthought.)
The Ix fizzed around her mind like
water molecules coming to the boil. She
could sense their resentment well before
they said, There are dragon elementals
on the Earth, responsible for aiding the
protection of the planet.
The katt twitched a whisker. Explain
the term dragon elementals.
Humans born of dragon auma, able to
create the living likeness of a dragon
from the physical crust of the Earth. It

was a creature such as this that wielded

a creat:or at Isenfier.
Crust of the Earth? Aunt Gwyneth
thought of Eliza in the Dead Lands and
what Davids mother had done with clay,
particularly the birth of Penny. So intense
was her musing that she let her attention
slip for a moment, almost allowing the Ix
to reform. For a second time the katt let
out a violent hiss as Aunt Gwyneth forced
the Cluster back into submission.
Its doing that ripping thing again,
Rosa said as Felix dug his claws into the
base of his bedding.
Once again, David stopped what he
was doing. Maybe it needs some
thera:peutic input. When Counsellor
Strmberg arrives Ill ask him to check it
over. Im going to send that :com today,

whether weve found the book or not.

That, thought the Aunt, was all she
needed. Strmberg picking her up and
stroking her. Once again she intensified
her auma, smashing the Cluster into scraps
temporarily. She picked on a scrap and
neutralised it. It left a burning hole in her
mind, a void in her memory she knew she
would never be able to fill. But as a
demonstration of power it was quick and
effective. The Ix took the hint.
We will answer your questions , they
said, weakly.
Very wise. Tell me more about David
Merriman. How can he have the auma of a
dragon when no such thing exists on this
world?
The Ix paused. He is between worlds,
they said.

There are three Davids?

Negative, said the Ix. There is one
entity, varying at quantum speeds
between the time points. His auma
alternates across the planes. This is a
primary condition of the nexus.
Is his life on Earth different when
hes there?
Yes, but his purpose remains the same.
Only the connections vary.
Connections? What connections?
The Ix took a moment to consider this
question. The mammal in the book is one.
The squirrel? Why would an
insignificant creature mean so much to
someone like him?
On Earth, he has resonated strongly
with them. We do not know what their
function is.

And where do I, Gwyneth, fit into

this?
You are another connection.
Suddenly, the tic around the eye was
back. Are you telling me that I have
another life on Earth?
We must Cluster to answer that.
Do it, she snapped, flashing the katts
tail. Try anything and Ill neutralise you
all.
We accept this, said the Ix.
She let them regroup. After several
moments of neural activity, they reported
they had an answer.
Well? What is it?
At the time of Isenfier, Gwyneth does
not exist.
What? The katts teeth began to
chatter fiercely.

On Earth, you are called Gwilanna.

You die before Isenfier begins.
How? In what circumstances?
Fear, they said, buzzing round her
brain. Fear of the Shadow. Fear of the Ix.
Fear of you? she spat. Then die
yourself she was about to say, when a
light began to flash in a corner of the room
and a strange combination of clangs and
whistles and hoots and bells went off all
over the building. The katt leaped to its
feet, jumping round to look at David and
Rosa.
Well, that doesnt happen every day,
David said.
There was someone at the librarium
door.

4
Maybe its your squirrel, Rosa said
drily.
But when David popped his head out of
the window to see, he was even more
surprised than he might have been if
Rosas suggestion had been correct. He
dashed to the front door and flung it wide.
Mum! he cried in delight. And
Penny, he added, as his grinning sister
popped out from behind their mothers
back.
Weve come to see you, Penny said,
waving a hand.
He smiled to see her holding a daisy to
her chin.
Is it a bad time? Eliza asked. She

flicked a look beyond him, into the

librarium.
No, he said, buterm?
Why are we here?
Its cos I want another book, chirped
Penny. She stepped up and punched him
lightly in the ribs. (Why did sisters do
that? he wondered.)
And we miss you, of course, his
mother added.
And we want to see Rosa, Penny
said, putting so much slant on the name
that she almost curtsied. She jumped up
straight and put her head back. Wow, its
big, isnt it? Can I go in? This turned out
to be a non-question. Before David could
speak, shed dashed past him into the
foyer.
Penny, come back. Youll get lost! he

shouted.
Im in here, she called faintly. Wow,
therere books everywhere, Mum!
Eliza stepped forward and took her
sons hands. You OK?
Sure.
Whats the burning smell?
Even now, the after-effects of the blaze
still lingered. We had a fire
A fire? Here?
and a bit of trouble, but everythings
under control now.
Eliza looked at him as if she suspected
that the bit of trouble was really rather
serious, but she let it pass. Were the
birds affected? I dont see any.
Slight misunderstanding with the birds.
Ill explain later. Come on in, Ill show
you round.

He stood back and let his mother go

past. As she entered the foyer she paused
to listen to a rustling sound. Whats
that?
That will be the books saying hello.
It means they like you.
The books do?
Mmm. Youll get used to that. A
slight breeze found its way down the stairs
to caress the ends of Elizas hair. It was
as if the building had sighed with joy to
see her. So, would you like a cup of tea
before your tour? Or do you want to meet
Rosa first?
Suddenly, there was a thumping clatter
from one of the rooms and a voice went,
Ow!
Oh, Penny, Eliza tutted. She set off in
the direction of the sound, only to have

David stop her and say, No, its this way,

Mum.
But? She pointed to the left of the
stairs.
Doesnt work like that. You dont go
where you think you ought to, you go
where the building tells you you should.
The two things often coincide, but its
always best to put your faith in the
building. He gestured her to follow.
They found Penny on Floor 5, standing
sheepishly beside several piles of books
that had collapsed in a slicing domino
effect. Rosa was there already, silently
picking them up.
I didnt mean it, Penny whispered,
hiding her face behind her knockedtogether fists.
Rosa lifted a dark eyebrow.

Rosa, David said, taking a book from

her hand and separating her away from the
clutter. This is my mum and my, erm,
little sister. Theyve come to pay us a
visit.
Rosa tossed her hair. Just for a moment
she was twelve again. Weve met, she
said to Eliza.
Yes, but youre rather different now,
Eliza said. Youre very beautiful, Rosa.
David switched his gaze between the
two women. Though neither of them
wanted to break their proud stares, he was
confident his mothers remark had
softened the tension. And he couldnt fault
her observation. Since Rosa had acquired
the mark on her arm, she seemed to be
even more striking than before, in a darkly
intense and moody sort of way.

Penny tugged her brothers sleeve.

Honestly, I didnt mean it.
I know, he said. He gave her a quick
hug.
It was the katt, she said.
Youve got a katt? said Eliza.
Unfortunately, yes. Rosa glanced at
David. It shot out of the basket when the
room alarms went off. I thought it was
with you.
It made me jump, Penny said. It gave
me a funny look.
I doubt it, said Eliza, flicking through
a gardening book. Most katts have got
one look: permanent confusion.
David saw Rosas mouth twitch into a
smile. It was brief. Almost negligible. But
there all the same. It was surely only a
matter of time before she and his mum

became friends. So, shall we go to a

resting room?
OK, Ill do these later, Rosa said.
Shell help you, said Eliza, nudging
Penny (who grinned as if shed got
something stuck in her teeth).
She cant, Rosa said. Only David
and I know exactly where the books need
to go.
Before Pennys lips could thicken into a
sulk, David brought his hands together in a
clapping motion and said, Right. Lets
go and relax then, shall we? And he
turned his sister round and marched her
away. (This time when she socked him in
the ribs, she meant it.)
Thankfully, Penny had brightened up by
the time theyd reached the room where
Mr Henry had kept his favourite reference

books. The table Thorren Strmberg had

constructed there was a fading shimmer.
David re-imagineered it, adding cups and
saucers. While Rosa set about preparing
drinks, Penny squirmed into a chair and
said, Shall we give David his present
now, Mum?
Present? He brushed Felix off a chair
so his mother could sit down.
Its something for the building, really,
said Eliza. Dont take this the wrong
way, but I didnt have you in mind when I
made it. Well, no, thats not strictly true. I
w as thinking about you because youd
just gone away but Id intended to create
a more natural dragon
Dragon? Rosa said, suddenly
becoming interested.
and it just came out the way it did. It

was as if it already existed somewhere

and I just gave itform.
Eliza reached into her bag and put a
sculpture on the table. It was about twice
the height of a cup (in its saucer) and
made of solid clay. It was sitting upright
on two flat feet, balancing on a tail that
swept out behind it and curved up at the
end in a triangular point. The scales were
cross-hatched over its back, but arranged
in a pattern of crescents on its chest. The
wings were half-folded down. Apart from
the general form, two things really stood
out for David. The whole profile of the
head was far gentler than the images of
dragons in his mind, mainly because of the
oval-shaped, violet-coloured eyes which
inspired warmth and kindness and trust.
And secondly, it was holding an open

book.
Eliza turned it so that Rosa could see.
I made it from earth I brought back from
the Dead Lands. I imagineered the
colour, (green, with turquoise hints), but
the book just appeared out of nowhere,
like Id blinked and carried on sculpting
unawares. It seemed appropriate to bring
it to a place full of books. I hope you can
find a shelf for it.
Of course we can, said David. What
do you think, Rosa?
Its not what I think, she muttered.
Look at the katt.
Felix was up on a chair again,
completely transfixed by the dragon. He
put his front paws on the edge of the table
and got into crouch mode, ready to spring.
Ah-ah, I dont think so, David said, and

hoiked the katt up by the scruff of the neck.

It miaowed loudly and struggled in his
grip, but reserved its worst moment for
Eliza. As David turned, the katt hissed and
spat at her. Eliza jerked back, looking
more confused than frightened.
David carried Felix across the room,
constructed a cage of metal bars, threw the
katt into it and locked the door. Felix
hissed and growled and paddled and spat.
More worryingly, he kept throwing his
head from side to side as if he was
quarrelling with himself.
That katt gives me the creeps, said
Penny, moving to another chair further
from it.
Where did you get it? Eliza asked,
staring intently at the cage.
Stowaway from Bushley Common,

David answered. He tracked her gaze.

Why, whats the matter?
The eyes, she said. They remind me
of someone.
What? said Rosa.
Eliza shook her head. Forget it. Its
ridiculous. Lets enjoy our tea.
David pulled up a chair and quickly
changed the subject. Pointing at his
mothers sculpture he said, Ive seen one
of those before.
Thats funny, Penny said the same
thing.
Told you, Penny piped up in triumph.
She wouldnt believe me, she said to
her brother. It was in the tunnel, wasnt
it, when we looked through the glass?
Tunnel? Glass? Rosa lifted her
shoulders.

David briefly explained about

animating the Alicia story. How, he
wondered, had his mother come to make a
dragon just like the ones they had seen?
He was still musing on this when Penny
cupped her hands around his ear to
whisper something.
What? No, he said.
Go on, Penny tutted. Please, just for
me.
We dont like to imagineer here.
Eliza tucked her hair behind her ears
and said: Are there laws against using
your fain in the librarium?
Rosa said tautly, Mr Henry used to say
that the contents of the books were this
buildings constructs. The words, when
read, are a natural form of imagineering.
But words cant make things move,

Penny argued. (On a shelf to her right a

book fell over. She noticed it but rattled
on regardless.) If David makes the
dragon read, we can see whats written in
his book, cant we? Oh please, David. Do
it. For me.
All right, he said, avoiding Rosas
eye. Well try it, but I cant guarantee the
results. We should commingle me and
Mum.
Eliza smiled. That would be fun. We
used to do it when you were little. Do you
remember?
Oh, spare me, Rosa muttered, under
her breath.
Penny mouthed at her brother, Is she
always this grumpy?
He wagged a finger. Penny sat back and
folded her arms.

Ready, Mum?
Yes, she said, closing her eyes. You
do the intending, Ill support.
David defocused his gaze onto the
dragon.
In the blink of an eye, it gave itself a
shake. This set its scales rattling from top
to toe, ending with a ping at the triangle
on the tail.
Penny gave a squeal of delight. Even
Rosa, leaning back against the rest-room
counter top, had to smile when the dragon
sneezed a big puff of smoke and blew fine
ash across its book. It frowned and busily
dusted the pages.
Is it a story book? Penny asked
excitedly. Can the dragon talk? Will it
read something out?
David didnt reply. The animation,

nevertheless, was unaffected. Drumming

its slightly webbed toes on the table, the
dragon began to flip through the pages of
the book at a speed which produced a
noticeable draught. It flicked forwards and
backwards several times, even turning the
book upside down once, before it settled
on a page it wanted to show. A single
letter was written there: G.
G? Is that all? Penny said.
Hrrr, went the dragon, and hurriedly
flicked through the pages again to show an
A, then a D, and a Z.
Its spelling something, Penny said.
GADZ
By now, however, the dragon was
looking nervously over its shoulder as if it
was concerned that it might be in danger.
It became so flustered as it searched for

the next letter that it fumbled the pages and

dropped the book. Rosa, seeing this,
stepped towards the table. David, can
you hear me? Are you all right? She
waved a hand across his eyes. There was
no response. Eliza, whats the matter
with him? Why is he shaking? Eliza?
Whats? Suddenly, a high-pitched,
muted wail drew her attention to the cage
across the room. Felix was staring at
them, shaking with intent. His ears were
pricked. His eyes, stone black.
David, stop this! Rosa shouted. Stop
the commingling! Theres something
wrong!
Look at the book! cried Penny.
Whats happening to the book?
It was shining like a four-pointed star.
All along its vertical axis, a rip was

appearing in the fabric of space. The

dragon covered its eyes and went into a
crouch, mimicking Eliza who was doing
the same thing.
Penny, get out of the way, cried Rosa.
With one heave, she pulled the girl off her
seat and dragged her back, away from the
table, just as two streams of glowing
black light stretched out of Felix and
flowed around the dragon. The dragon
was spun about and thrown to one side.
But the light continued on its way, acting
as if it had entered a prism. It split into a
host of finer rays and melted into Davids
vision. The Ix was inside him, seeking to
kill.
But David was not about to die that day.
What happened next would be written
in the librariums history forever. With a

bang, Davids chair hit the shelves behind

him, bringing down a shower of books. At
first glance it appeared he had stood up
too quickly and merely kicked his chair
away. But in fact he was going through a
physical transformation of immense
proportions, enough to move a mountain,
never mind a chair.
Penny screamed and buried herself
against Rosas shoulder as a great white
beast emerged in place of her brother. The
animal, that he would later call bear,
opened a pair of ferocious jaws and
roared at the time rift, flashing five
hooked claws at a finger of darkness
trying to billow through it. That was all it
took to seal the danger. The rift closed and
compressed to a single point. But the Ix
inside David was committed to fight. The

Cluster roared through his cerebral cortex,

confident of early supremacy. In truth, it
had little chance of ever gaining control.
The walls of the great librarium shook as
the huge bear roared again. Every point of
its white fur tingled black. Then a bluewhite halo lifted from its body and in one
expulsion of pure white fire the Ix Cluster
was dispersed into harmless microdots of
ineffective energy. Gone.
When it was done, the clay dragon was
lying on the table unharmed. Eliza was
still in her seat, recovering. Rosa and
Penny were cowering together on the far
side of the room.
The bear snorted and swung its head
towards the window. It grunted at a pair
of firebirds that had just come in to land.
Then, as if a cloud had drifted past the

sun, the bear morphed back into David.

He staggered for a moment, catching his
balance. He looked at Rosa. She was too
stunned to speak.
The first words came from Aurielle.
Spreading her fabulous, apricot-tipped
wings, she glided into the room and
landed on the table. She stared long and
hard at Elizas dragon and even longer at
Rosas
arm. Rrrh-ruurr-rhhh! she
chattered.
What did she say? asked David, still
nursing a growl.
Rosa gulped and pressed Pennys head
to her chest. She wants us to follow her
to Floor 108. Were to bring the dragon
with us.
Rrrh! went Aurielle.
Now, she says.

5
But first, there was the little matter of
Aunt Gwyneth to attend to. And it was a
little matter.
Raising a hand to acknowledge
Aurielles request, David walked over to
the cage hed constructed around Felix.
The katt was no longer there. In its place
was a groggy (and somewhat perplexed),
miniature version of Aunt Gwyneth.
David quickly extended his fain and
probed her mind. It was still the dreaded
Aunt all right, but not so superior any
more. Her fain was in tatters, like a
punctured cloud. And whatever shed
done to disguise herself as Felix had
backfired in the most spectacular way.

She had lost her ability to imagineer at

least for now. But she still had a tongue
and a temper. And she used it.
You! Get me out of here. Now! she
squeaked. She gripped the bars of the cage
and tried to rattle them.
David sat down cross-legged on the
floor. I dont think so, he said. I like
you just where you are.
Aunt Gwyneth scowled furiously as
Rosa, Eliza and an open-mouthed Penny
all came crowding round. And what are
you looking at? she hissed at Aleron.
He was at the window, awaiting
instructions from Aurielle.
Careful, Aunt, he might just eat you,
David warned. Your kind are not popular
in this building, remember.
David? His mother touched his

shoulder lightly, holding her fingers there

a moment to convince herself that this
man was still her son. I have no idea
what just happened in this room, but that
I mean, she is still an Aunt.
Finally, some respect, Aunt Gwyneth
railed, blowing a sprig of hair off her
cheek.
Rosa crouched down and put her face to
the cage. Need a hairpin, Aunt? She
produced one shed found when the twins
had disappeared. It was half the length of
Aunt Gwyneths body and twinkled keenly
when Rosa rolled it through her fingers.
Aunt Gwyneth actually gulped.
David, please stop this, his mother
said.
He gestured to Rosa to back away.
With a snort, she jabbed the pin at the

bars for good measure. Is she harmless?

Yes.
Good. Let her stew. You and I need to
have a serious talk.
But Aunt Gwyneth was not about to
give up easily. I demand that you release
me at once. I am not a criminal. I was
invaded by the Ix and held hostage to their
plans.
Ix? said David, in a level tone.
Aunt Gwyneth leaned forward. Her
wrinkled face looked like a piece of dried
mud. Thats what you destroyed with
your clever antics. A Cluster of Ix. An
alien danger your fool of a father
introduced to this world from a place
called Earth.
Our father? Penny looked up at her
mother.

Later, said Eliza, stroking Pennys

hair.
Whatever that thing is or was said
David, my father was trying to protect
Co:pern:ica from it. He reached into his
pocket and brought out the tangled auma
pad.
Whats that? Penny asked.
A nasty elec:tronic device which
sucks the life out of things, Penny
especially books.
Why would anyone do that?
So they could build up their fain and
become the most powerful force on the
planet. Isnt that right, Aunt Gwyneth?
Youve no right to interfere with my
projects, she snapped. Co:pern:ica
needs leadership. Discipline. Strength.
Only a su:perior Aunt can provide that.

Not any more, David said, standing

up. He put the auma pad back into his
jacket. I think were on the brink of
discovering what this building really
means to this world. Were going to blow
your system apart. Thanks to you, the
Aunts grip is about to weaken.
And you think you could do better?
She banged the cage door to keep his
attention. You think Co:pern:ica will
place its trust in a freak that cant decide
if its a human construct or a roaring
animal? I know what you are, David. I
know why the Ix were coming for you. I
know why Isenfier was stopped.
Rosa threw him a sideways glance.
Whats she babbling about?
Release me and Ill talk, Aunt
Gwyneth said. She clamped her mouth

shut and smirked.

David was having none of it. Tell
Runcey to guard her, he said to Rosa.
Mum, Penny, come with me.
But Rosa was having none of that.
Slamming two hands against his chest she
said, Stop right there. You dont just float
off upstairs without explaining what
happened just now. What are you? How
did you morph into thatthing?
I dont know, David answered her
plainly. I was attacked; I responded.
Thats all there is to it. I know as much
about that animal as you do at present. Its
been in my dreams since I was twelve
years old.
Picking at her nails Aunt Gwyneth said,
Hes out of control, Rosa. How long do
you think its going to be before the

Higher step in to Re:move him for good?

Shut up, Rosa growled.
The Aunt flared her nostrils. Ill
remember your insolence when Im out of
here, girl.
Look, said Eliza, stepping in to make
the peace. She put herself between Rosa
and her son. Why dont you two go
upstairs and Penny and I will stay here
andlook after things?
No. I want to be with David, Penny
said. She ran up and grabbed her brothers
hand.
She cant come with us, Rosa said to
David. We cant take a kid above Floor
42.
David switched his gaze to Aurielle,
who was hopping impatiently from foot to
foot. He said to Penny, Have you brought

Alicia with you?

The girl heaved the story book out of
her pocket. Can I swap it for another?
Rosa said, bluntly, The books belong
here.
David glanced at the shelves all around
them. The librarium was whispering as it
sometimes did. Outside, in the fields, the
daisy leaves were fluttering. Actually, I
think the building would like it if Penny
borrowed another book.
Yes! went the girl.
Rosa threw up her hands. This is
crazy. We dont know what well find on
the upper floors, David. Shes just going
to be a burden to us.
I am n Penny was about to say, but
her brother raised a hand to quieten her.
Well take her to the fiction department

and let her look round. What harm can that

do? The dangers passed. Well take
Runcey with us. He can keep an eye on
her.
Its Aleron, Rosa said, taut and
grumpy. Ill be waiting on the stairs. If
youre not out in one minit, Im going up
without you. She snapped a rrrh! at
Aurielle and marched away. The creamcoloured firebird flapped out after her.
Mum, you gonna be OK with her?
David nodded at Aunt Gwyneth. She had
settled down on the floor of her prison and
assumed a haughty, meditative pose.
Dont believe a word she tells you. And
under no circumstances let her out of that
cage. Ill :com Counsellor Strmberg
when we get back. Hell know what to
do.

Youll regret this, said the Aunt. She

closed her eyes and went, Ommmm.
Ill be OK, said Eliza. Go and be
nice to Rosa.
Beckoning Aleron to join him, David
drew Penny away. But at the door to the
stairs he stopped for a moment to pluck a
book off one of the shelves. It had a thick
red spine and a well-worn look, as if it
had been used many hundreds of times. He
opened it about a third of the way through,
turned two pages then settled on one,
carefully tracing his finger down it. At the
point where his finger stopped moving, he
frowned.
David? Is everything all right? his
mother asked.
(Aunt Gwyneth opened one eye.)
Yes, he said, but he didnt sound

convinced. He pushed the book back, then

guided Penny out.
Aunt Gwyneth opened both eyes and
said, Well, how pleasant to have some
time to ourselves. What shall we do? Sing
songs? Play a game? She folded her
hands into her lap and began to chant a
rhyme that children were often taught: I
fain, with my little brain, something
beginning with
Aunt Gwyneth, Im not in the mood for
games, Eliza said. She was staring at the
shelf where David had checked the book.
The Aunt slid her gaze in that direction.
Stop prevaricating, girl. Go and take a
look.
What at?
Aunt Gwyneth sneezed. It sounded as if
a small bomb had suddenly gone off. The

book, of course. Its probably a reference

volume, like all the others in this
disgusting arena of floating dust. Id say
he was hoping to discover what your
dragon was spelling out. The sculpture
was trying to tell him something.
Something that caused the Ix that took me
hostage to break away and attempt to kill
him. Arent you curious? You saw how
troubled he was.
Eliza squeezed her hands together. If
hed wanted me to know, hed have said
something to me.
Pah! How weak and pathetic youve
become. I had such hopes for you.
Aunt Gwyneth, lets get one thing
clear: if you try to turn my mind Ill
imagineer a blanket over your cage.
Tch. So disrespectful, too.

Me? Eliza turned to the captive and

scowled. You falsely banished my
husband to the Dead Lands and abandoned
me there without a shred of help and
given half a chance youd destroy my son.
I dont think I owe you any respect.
I beg to differ, Aunt Gwyneth snarled.
Open this cage at once.
The command was persuasive. Very
persuasive. A sign that the Aunt Su:perior
might be regaining her powers. Eliza
could feel herself wanting to reach
forward. In the nick of time, she snatched
her hand back. No. Youre wicked.
Youre staying where you are. Dont make
me put a cover over you.
Aunt Gwyneth breathed in sharply.
How dare you treat me like this? You, of
all people.

Whats that supposed to mean?

And then the Aunt did something
completely out of keeping with one of her
kind: she introduced a note of sorrow to
her voice. I wasnt going to tell you this.
But as Strmberg will have me sent to the
Dead Lands and well never see each
other again after that, then you might as
well know the truth. I was talking about
the bond of family. You rage at me, throw
taunts at me and all the while speak ill of
me. If anyone is wicked, it is you, Eliza. I
didnt bring you up to lock me in a cage!
Is this really any way to treat your
mother?

6
My? No! Eliza stood up, wagging a
finger. No, she said again, thats just
plain ludicrous.
Is it? said the Aunt. You freely
admit you know nothing of your life before
Harlan Merriman but I do. How many
constructs have you met, Eliza, that cant
recall anything from their childhood? I
closed you down and erased your
memories for one reason only: you would
have been de:constructed if the Higher had
known what you were capable of.
Penny Eliza felt her mouth growing
dry.
Quite. The ability to reproduce the
way you did is indicative of your ancestry.

Your father was descended from Agawin

himself. He was taken from me and
removed by the Higher when he was no
older than your son is now.
How did you meet him?
How did you meet Harlan? These
things just happen, girl. He was a man, tall
and clever, with magick in his fain and
and wings on his back.
Eliza drew closer to the bars. Wings?
Dont shout, the Aunt said, shying
away. When youre this size, the air
pressure really isnt comfortable. She
stood up and adjusted her clothing. The
wings were stubs. Never fully developed.
But enough to set him apart from any other
suitor of which there were many, I might
add. She put a hand to her bun and fluffed
it up. I was quite something when it

mattered. Im glad to see youve inherited

mysplendour, though the hair is a little
odd, it must be said.
I fail to see the likeness, Eliza said
sharply. She pulled back from the cage
and went for a walk around the room. She
took a book off a shelf and pushed it back
again, as if she needed to exercise her
arm. If this is true, what became of him
my father?
Aunt Gwyneth cracked her knuckles
like a row of seed pods. I dont know,
she said (with a credible degree of regret
in her voice). I tried many times to
discover that myself, before I was taken
into Aunthood. After that, a certain
bitterness entered my soul. Even you, his
daughter, I had to denounce, though I
couldnt bear to see you fully

de:constructed. My Aunt Su:perior took

pity on me. She put your template into
stasis until I was ready to accept you
back. By then, you had no need to know
your mother. So you were reintroduced as
an orphaned young woman. And I
remained silent and merely observed
you.
Eliza touched the spine of a book,
enjoying the curvature of it and the way
the authors name was faintly embedded in
a deep shade of red two thirds of the way
up. Books were beautiful, she thought,
arranged like this. Like a kind of sleeping
ornament. And despite her dismissive
attitude when she had first come to the
librarium, she rather liked the deep, rich
smell of them too. There was nothing quite
like it on all Co:pern:ica. How do I

know youre not spinning me a tale so Ill

break that lock and let you out?
I would have thought the answer to that
was obvious. Its running around upstairs
by now, looking for another book to read.
Penny is only alive because Im protecting
her. Come to that, my dear, so are you.
Eliza walked to a chair and slowly sat
down. Tell me about Agawin. Was he
man or construct?
Try enigma, said the Aunt, going on a
little walkabout herself. Had you
continued your training you would have
studied this myth in full.
Myth? Hes not real? But if he never
existed, how could I be descended from
him?
O h , something existed, Aunt
Gwyneth said, trailing her fingers over the

bars of her cage. There are documents,

drawings, etchings in stone. Most of it
cached with the Aunts, of course. There
are rumours that artefacts exist in the Dead
Lands, particularly at a place called the
Isle of Alavon, but none of it is conclusive
and his origins are merely speculative at
best. Some scholars have suggested he
was not of this world. That he travelled
across time and created Co:pern:ica to his
own template: part man, part firebird, part
fain. Others claim he was simply a man
who found a way to look into the face of
all creation and was driven insane by
what he saw.
And what did he see?
Dragons, said the Aunt, quite matterof-factly.
Eliza felt her heart stop beating for a

moment.
You have something to say about
this?
I saw dragons. I think I saw him, too
or the spirit of him. A flying man with
sunken eyes. He, they, were there in the
Dead Lands.
They were not.
Butthey led me to the cave.
They did not, Aunt Gwyneth insisted.
Your need for survival led you to shelter.
What you saw were projections, images
pooled from the collective consciousness
of the Co:pern:ican race. Theres a word
for it, Eliza. Its called superstition. It is
natural for any living beings to question
the origins of their existence. Over
thousands of spins, our fain has been
seeded by the romantic notion that Agawin

commanded a legion of dragons and used

their power to create this world. The only
reason the Aunts have not erased this myth
is that it acts as a kind of comfort to us.
Everyone wants to believe in something
that will make their mundane lives more
bearable and their inevitable death less
final. The truth is, we do not know how
we came to be. There is no proof of
anything, although
What? asked Eliza. She leaned
forward, making her chair lift.
Aunt Gwyneth tapped her fingertips
together. The general concensus of Aunt
opinion is that Agawin was merely a
renegade ec:centric the first, of course
able to imagineer well beyond the
capabilities of other Co:pern:icans. The
Grand Design was introduced because of

him, to prevent any sweeping acts of

adverse creativity. In that sense, you and
your remarkable son are perfect examples
of his line. But if there is any substance at
all to the more fanciful stories, we believe
this building holds the key. It is a
remarkable source of fain.
Which you tried to steal.
Conjecture, snapped the Aunt. I was
searching for answers, nothing more. It
was important to keep the project secret to
maintain my credibility as an Aunt,
particularly in front of counsellors like
Strmberg. But I did it for one reason only
to monitor and protect your son, my
grandson.
Eliza relaxed her body shape a little,
but hardened her green-eyed gaze. What
did you mean when you said you knew

what David was?

Youve seen the time rifts around
him, Aunt Gwyneth replied. He is the
focus of an invasive force called the Ix. I
managed to intercept an Ix Cluster and
keep them at bay for a while. As you can
see from my physical appearance I have
paid a wretched price for my heroism.
Something which should not be
disregarded when Strmberg arrives to
gloat over me. The Ix are pure fain, but a
negative strain.
Eliza gulped as she took this in.
Negative fain was something never talked
about. To imagineer catastrophe or hatred
or terror was unthinkable in Co:pern:ican
society. She stood up and went to the
window. So peaceful. So beautiful. The
flowers. The sky. The odd droplet of rain,

falling. Why did that always lift her heart

so: the presence of rain? What do these
beings want with David?
They believe he is some kind of time
agent, which adds substance to the idea
that Agawin was borne from another
world. It would all be rather exciting if it
wasnt for the fact that the Ix intend to
destroy David. Without me, thats a
distinct possibility.
Eliza whipped round to face the cage
again, this time with anger bubbling
through her veins. How can you be so
hypocritical?
You
wanted
him
de:constructed.
Aunt Gwyneth laughed this off. I could
have re:moved him many times over,
especially when he was in stasis in this
very room. One day youll understand that

everything Ive done was meant to test him

or guide him or strengthen him. He needs
me, Eliza. If you want to help the boy, let
me go.
No, she said, after giving it some
thought. For all your pretty words, I still
dont trust you.
Well, if nothing else, look at the
book! the Aunt fizzed. All the time we
spend dithering together extends the
possibility of another time rift opening.
We could at least find out what made him
so anxious. She pointed at the bookshelf
again.
Oh, very well. Eliza marched to the
shelves and drew the book down. It was a
dictionary. (One of Mr Henrys
favourites.) It was heavy and she needed
to support it carefully as she searched for

the letters her dragon had revealed. There

was only one entry which began with the
sequence GADZ. It chilled her to see it,
though she couldnt say why. A word she
was unfamiliar with, but which seemed to
shine a light in the back of her mind:
GADZOOKS.
Gadzooks? said Aunt Gwyneth when
she heard it read. It seemed to set a nerve
alive in her mind, too. What is its
meaning?
Eliza put a finger on the page. Its an
archaic expression for a contraction of the
phrase claws of Godith. She turned a few
more pages. Thats very strange.
Godith is a mythical dragon that was
supposed to have created the universe
with her breath. Do you know anything
about that?

No, said the Aunt. She narrowed her

gaze and studied Eliza carefully. Listen
to me, girl. This is important. Hidden in a
room upstairs is a claw. I cannot say for
certain it came from a dragon, but if you
insist in believing in these creatures it
would be most unwise to say that it didnt.
We must recover it at once and take it to
David. In the wrong hands, such a thing
would be deadly.
Eliza put the dictionary back and
sighed.
Aunt Gwyneth slammed her fists against
the bars. This is not a ruse, you stupid
girl. You have the evidence there in front
of you. Your sculpture was clearly issuing
a warning. You must have felt it when you
commingled with David? You heard what
Rosa said. They dont know what awaits

them on the upper floors. Your sons life

and the future of Co:pern:ica might be at
stake. Are you going to act or not?
All right, Eliza said, spreading her
hands. Tell me how you know about this
claw in the first place. If you can convince
me, I might let you go.
For once, Aunt Gwyneth plumped for
the truth. When I first encountered the Ix,
they had taken the form of a black
firebird.
Go on, Eliza said, remembering
Pennys claims in the gardenaria.
Aunt Gwyneths mind began to
calculate fast. It was tracking Davids
movements, I suspect. I followed it here
and did battle with it. It had the claw then,
but hid it when it forced me to turn into a
katt.

And you know where it is?

Im not familiar with this building, but
any descendant of Agawin ought to be
able to extend her fain and tune in to its
whereabouts.
Eliza tapped her toe. She counted to
three, then marched across the room and
yanked up the cage (throwing Aunt
Gwyneth onto her bottom). All right, Ill
do it. But youre coming with me. Ill
carry you, mother, but I wont let you
out.
Aunt Gwyneth stood up and dusted
herself down. She made a promise to
herself that when she got out of this
embarrassing cage she would make the
girl pay for that bout of heavy-handed
brutality. For the moment, however, things
were well enough. The Aunt Su:perior

raised a smile. Despite the annoying

swing of the cage, she put her hands
behind her back and fiddled with the
hairpin shed taken from her bun a few
minits earlier. It had been a long time
since shed picked a lock. But even in her
fainless state, such a task was not beyond
her capabilities. All that mattered now
was to have the dragons claw. The
natural order would then be restored. And
she, Gwyneth, would at last become the
most powerful woman on all Co:pern:ica.

7
Gadzooks. David carried the name with
him all through the lower floors of the
librarium. And each time it formed its
shape on his lips, an image of a dragon
floated into his mind. Another like the one
his mother had made, a cousin of the
sculpture in Pennys hands. But unlike the
book-reading dragon, Gadzooks carried a
pen (or possibly a pencil), and a notepad,
presumably to write things down. David
thought of Mr Henry then, and how the
curator had always held the view that if
books were windows onto the world,
writing was the latch that opened them
in short, the centrepoint of all creativity.
Words made the universe turn, he said.

Somewhere within that revolving world,

as distant but as vibrant as a shining star,
David knew he shared a place with the
dragon, Gadzooks. He simply did not
know in what sense yet, though it felt as
natural as the air in his lungs and as
permanent as the creases in the centre of
his palm. He looked at the dragon in
Pennys hands, solid now, inert, holding
its book to the fore like a sail. To the
untrained eye it was a model, nothing
more. And, like everything else on
Co:pern:ica, from the lowliest button to
the puffiest cloud, it had a certain level of
auma to the casual observer, a fairly
low reading. But there was something
strange about this creation, which Eliza
herself might not even be aware of. There
was a spark inside the sculpture, right at

its middle. A glint of white fire. A fire

within. How could a creature created from
earth, with the properties of earth (its
solidity, basically, was just a disguise),
hide such powerful auma inside it? How
could something made of clay be alive?
Will you tell me about our father?
Umm? David said.
Penny rolled her eyes sideways. I
didnt know we had a father. Whats he
like? Why isnt he at home with us?
From the head of the party Rosa called
out, Get ready. Were going in.
Later, David whispered, patting
Pennys arm.
They had reached the corridor on Floor
42, approaching the door to the fiction
department. This time there was no need
for passwords or codes, they simply

sailed through on Aurielles command.

Azkiar was waiting on the other side,
perched, half asleep, on the swinging sign.
Wow, I like that one! Penny said.
But he clearly did not think the same of
her. His ear tufts swivelled so far forward
that the feathers above his eyes were
nearly ejected like a row of arrows.
Filling the space like a blood red stain, he
glided onto the librarium floor and began
a heated exchange with Aurielle. Aleron,
ever calm, fluttered to a shelf and blew a
snort of air.
Rosa, what are they saying? David
asked.
She pinched her lips together as if shed
been expecting something like this. He
wants to know what took her so long and
what the kid is doing here.

Tch! Why doesnt anyone want me?

Penny tutted. She stuck out her tongue,
which only made Azkiar glare at her
hard.
And theres been a development
upstairs. Rosa cocked her head to listen.
Im not sure Ive got the translation right,
theyre speaking very fast, but I think he
just said that somethings got away and he
cant find it. She leaned closer so Penny
couldnt hear. What was that about the
danger being over?
All right, Ill deal with it, David
said. RRRH! he went loudly.
Aurielle and Azkiar immediately
stopped arguing and turned in unison to
look at him.
Impressive, said Rosa, folding her
arms. Youve learned enough of their

words to be able to say Oi.

Tell them I want Aleron and the red
one to guard Penny while she searches for
a book. Theyre to stay on this floor and
take her back to Mum as soon as shes
done.
Oh Penny started.
No arguments, Penny. Somethings
going on upstairs. It would be better if
Rosa and I dealt with it alone. Here, come
with me a moment. Let me show you
where I found Alicia. He guided her to
the space where the book belonged and
slid it back into place. Im sure any of
these stories would be very entertaining.
What about this one, The Twonks? He
pulled it down off a shelf her height.
Look, its got a silly picture of a man
with food in his beard.

Penny gazed at it without much

enthusiasm. Maybe, she said. It did look
funny.
Well, its here, if you want it, David
said, leaving The Twonks on the shelf.
Hes done a lot, hasnt he, Roland Darl?
Take your time looking through them.
Borrow any you like.
David. Rosa came up and tapped his
shoulder. Azkiar the red bird doesnt
want to stay. He wants to be upstairs when
we see the sheet or something. I cant
make out what hes trying to tell me.
David sighed and flicked his gaze
towards Aleron. Can you get him to stick
really close to Penny?
Rosa thought for a moment and tried a
few words.
The next thing Penny knew, she had a

green firebird sitting on her shoulder.

That means he likes you, David said.
Have fun. Hell look after you. Ive got
to go.
Too startled to argue, Penny merely
waved goodbye.
The journey picked up speed. Azkiar
flew on ahead and was out of sight by the
time they had reached Floor 52. There
was little time to stop and look around
properly, but David was soaking up the
rooms as they went. None was shaped
quite the same as any other, and many had
chairs and lounging areas, but the one
thing they all had in common were books.
Shelf after perfect shelf of books. All in
order. All the spines level. Every row the
same distance from the edge. This was
repeated all the way up to Floor 81,

where the pattern suddenly began to

change. On some shelves, gaps began to
appear. Only a few at first. But by the time
another four floors had been climbed, the
lines were radically broken. The books
were now spread out in irregular groups,
as if they had chosen to huddle together by
common acquaintance or kin. At first
David simply assumed that whoever had
done the ordering here had left (or even
died) before they could complete their
task. Then he noticed something very
unusual. The books had no titles or authors
or words. When he took one down and
opened it, the pages were blank. And yet
he could feel more auma in his hands than
would be present in a whole roomful of
books further down the building. He
shouted to Aurielle to slow down for a

moment, so that he might investigate

further. But the female bird was so close
to her goal that she squawked and pushed
on. David put the book back, in not quite
the same place and saw it move to its
correct position. If ever he needed proof
that the librarium was alive, there it was.
He caught up with Rosa and Aurielle on
Floor 108. The firebird had perched on a
tall wooden pedestal just to one side of a
closed arched door. Above the door was a
large old clock with a carved wooden
face. Dragons decorated all the numerals.
David turned and walked a few paces in
reverse, so that he might look back the
way theyd come. The shelves of books
seemed to blur and stretch, way out of
proportion to the distance theyd
travelled. Yet the way through the arched

door was simple enough. Aurielle tipped

her beak towards a twisted cord of rope,
suspended from the ceiling. When Rosa
pulled it, the clock hands began to spin
and the sound of chiming spread through
the building.
The door swung open.
The room was large and rectangular
and long. It smelled of old feathers, which
was hardly surprising as the floor was
ankle-deep with them. Unusually, the
windows were set very high and most had
their shutters half-closed. This did not
prevent sunlight angling through the slats
and lending the room a dappled golden
hue. From a circle of plaster at the centre
of the ceiling hung a large chandelier, in
which an untidy nest had been built.
Azkiar was sitting in it. And there were

loose books everywhere, of course,

stacked in piles, or strewn untidily on
dusty shelves, or lodged in a heap on a
chair in the corner, or spread out on the
table that ran the entire length of the room.
David felt the urge to start checking them
at once, but a call from Aurielle made him
look up.
She had landed on her tower and was
urging the humans to come and see
something pinned to the wall behind her.
David left Rosa admiring a couple of
candlesticks and waded through the
feathers to investigate.
He must have studied the tapestry for
all of a minit before calling out to Rosa
she needed to join him. But Rosa was still
occupied halfway down the room. She
was holding two halves of an egg shell in

her hands and had a strange, other-worldly

look in her eyes.
I got it wrong, she muttered as he
turned and came back to her side.
Got what wrong?
My translation downstairs.
Never mind, he said. You really
need to come and look at The faint
noise of humming suddenly drew his
attention. It was coming from a large old
book on the table. He turned it over. This
one certainly did have a title. The Book of
Agawin. Wh? How did this get here?
he said.
But Rosa wasnt listening. What I took
to be got away was right, she muttered,
but only in a general sense. Broken free
would have been a better translation. She
fitted the halves of the shell together, then

slowly opened it again. This is what

Azkiar couldnt find. Somethings
hatched.

8
Penny, David whispered, fearing for her
safety. In one stride hed started to run for
the door, much to the consternation of
Aurielle. The bird flapped and squawked
in such an agitated manner that her
centuries-old book tower finally
collapsed and she was forced to take to
the air. The crash displaced a dust cloud
as high as the shuttered windows. For a
while the chandelier was lost from view,
though Azkiar could still be heard
coughing out words that Rosa probably
wished she couldnt translate. When
Aurielle emerged, her dismay was barely
camouflaged by the dirt patches clinging
to her grubby feathers. Despite this, there

was a positive outcome. The accident had

made David hesitate and look back to see
if Aurielle had been injured. While he
was still batting feathers from his face,
Rosa had also come up with her own
reason to dissuade him from leaving.
Theres no need to go, she said.
Whatever was in the egg wont harm
Penny.
Uh? he spluttered. How do you
know?
I can feel your auma all over the
shell. Bizarrely, she could feel hers on it,
too, though she chose not to admit that to
him. Instead, she looked at Aurielle and
asked, Where did the egg come from?
Aurielle shook her tail feathers out,
sending two more spiralling to join the
others. She pottered towards the centre of

the table (steering a course around The

Book of Agawin), leaving a trail of prints
in her wake. Briefly, she explained how
shed found the egg in the Dead Lands and
how, during the time jolt, it had merged
with Davids tear and Azkiars fire and
She never got as far as the daisy chain
because David pointed at Azkiar and said,
His fire was trapped inside my tear?
The red firebird spat out a dry feather
shaft.
I saw a flash when he attacked you,
Rosa said urgently. That must have been
what it was.
So whats come out of it? he said.
Rosa stared at the shell and laid it back
on the nest where shed found it. I dont
know. But all Im getting from it is
love.

Well, I need to be sure, said David.

No, she said angrily. You cant go.
Not again. Two small words that ripped
into his heart.
A moment or two passed. Glances were
exchanged all around the room. High
above, a window shutter creaked. Azkiar,
who had flown to a shelf to shake himself
down, looked up from his preening,
perhaps wondering if there was something
he needed to investigate. Aurielle,
meanwhile, had let out her own jittery
plea for David to stay. For once, it needed
no translation.
Anyway, the books here, said Rosa,
hoping that would reach him if her
heartbreak couldnt. This is what we
were looking for, isnt it?
All right, he said. But first, tell me

what you make of this. Gripping her by

the elbow, he ploughed through the
feathers and manoeuvred her towards the
far end of the room. Aurielle skittered
down the table after them.
Its called a tapestry, said Rosa,
already studying it as they approached. I
read about them once when I was ordering
books on Floor Hang on, is that?
You and me? Yes. And that figure in
the corner, cradling the katt, looks like an
older version of Penny. I dont know who
the guy standing next to her is. But you see
the little girl in white whos kneeling?
You see the dragon shes holding, the one
that has a pencil?
It looks like one your mum might have
made.
Um. It is. Its name is Gadzooks.

Rosa looked sideways at him and

frowned. How do you know?
Ive been seeing him in my mind
ever since I got the name. Think about
what happened with the reading dragon.
G A D Zooks?
Exactly. And that shadow coming out
of the big hill in front of him is probably
the daddy of the Ix Cluster I fought.
Rosa ran her gaze across the tapestry
again. This time there was a glint of fear
in her eyes. Is he controlling it? she
asked. Or creating it? There was a spike
of darkness extending from the tip of the
dragons pencil back into the body of the
shadow.
I dont know, David said. See what
she says. He gestured at Aurielle. The
firebird clicked her tongue and stepped

forward.
And so began a long discussion, in
which Rosa learned that the tapestry
predicted a battle called Isenfier and that
firebirds had always protected it. How
long it had been there Aurielle couldnt
say. But she was clear about who had
made it.
Agawin, David guessed.
Rosa nodded. She says its a vision of
his future.
And were in it?
Rosa lifted her shoulders. Her beautiful
face was blank for once. Maybe well
learn something from the book.
Did you ask about the little girl
holding Gadzooks?
Yes. She doesnt know who she is.
They just call her the angel. Oh, and

theres something else. She wants you to

look at the dragons notepad.
David squinted at the tapestry. I can
barely see it.
Apparently, she knows a way. She
gave a quick nod to Aurielle. The excited
firebird flew to a panel beside the tapestry
and struck the tail of a small dragon that
had been carved out of the wood.
Immediately, a door slid open and a
brass-coloured tele:scope sprang out on a
long and wobbly criss-crossing extensor.
David took hold of it and drew it to his
eye, adjusting the rotating lenses until their
focus was on the dragons pad.
Amazingly, he could see something on it.
He studied it for a moment and extended
the tele:scopic arm towards Rosa.
The sign, she breathed. It was the

same three-lined mark that had opened the

door to Floor 42. The one she also
seemed to carry on her arm. Hes writing
sometimes on his pad. Why would he do
that?
David sighed and shook his head. I
wish Dad was here. Hed love all this.
He bounced the tele:scope back towards
the panel and walked down the room,
drumming his fingers on the table top.
Remarkably, The Book of Agawin had
escaped the fallout of dust. Laying his
hands on the table beside it, David stared
at the book for a few slow heartbeats, as if
he knew that once these pages were
opened his life would never be the same
again.
Rosa, sensing the enormity of the
moment, stroked a hand down his arm and

said, Strmberg told me you have to read

it from back to front.
David turned the book over. He ran his
fingertips across the title, letting them
trace the indents of the words. The book
seemed to hum in appreciation. The sound
it made reminded him of a lullaby his
mother used to sing to him when he was a
child. Time to wake, he whispered, and
opened the cover.
The paper was the colour of Aurielles
feathers and felt pleasantly warm to the
touch. The upper half of the opening page
was covered with a host of unfamiliar
symbols all manner of curving marks
with wild strokes and dashes flying off
like sparks from the centres of the
characters. And something Rosa hadnt
noticed before, maybe because of the light

downstairs.
Its all in green, she muttered.
David nodded. He could sense the auma
of dragons in the script. Ask Aurielle if
she knows how it got here.
Does it matter?
He found her inquisitive eyes. You
thought Mr Henry had hidden it. So who
put it on this table if were the only
humans to break the code to Floor 43?
This made Rosa look over her shoulder,
as if she half-expected the ghost of Mr
Henry to glide out of one of the shadowy
alcoves. She passed the question on to
Aurielle. The firebird chattered a strange
reply.
She says it came by itself. It appeared
a few days ago. She thought wed sent it.
David thought about the book hed seen

moving on the shelf, but chose to say

nothing.
Whats that? Rosa asked. She pointed
to a solitary word at the bottom of the
page. (Aurielle tilted one eye towards it.)
His signature.
That squiggle says Agawin?
In dragontongue, yes. And this he
waved a hand at the denser text, is a
summary of what the books about. Do you
want to hear it?
Rosa put a fingertip to her lips. No, I
think Ill go and count the daisies. She
thumped his arm (hard), making Aurielle
clatter back. Of course I want to hear it,
dummy.
So David looked down again. The
reflected symbols danced like flames as
his eyes scanned the page and he started to

translate. In a quiet voice he read, We

come from a world of fire.
We? Co:pern:icans?
Not sure. It doesnt say. He read the
line again. We come from a world of
fire. This I have witnessed in the beauty of
creation. This I have beheld in aglint, I
think, of time. All that is is within us and
without us. The fire of the dragon. The
eternal breath of life.
Is that it? Rosa screwed her nose in
disappointment.
David turned to the next page, where
there were two large symbols about a
third of the way down.
What does that say?
The Flight of Gideon.
Rosa did her best to translate this for
Aurielle. It clearly worked, for the

firebird paddled her feet in excitement and

responded with a whole flurry of words.
(Azkiar gave a squawk of annoyance as
yet more dust floated into the air.)
She knows of him, said Rosa,
interpreting the squawks. A golden
firebird theyre all descended from. She
wants to know if its true that he came
from another world?
David let his gaze come to rest on
Aurielle. She looked so comical, her body
still badged with choking dust and one
rogue feather attaching itself to the side of
her neck. Lets check on Mum and Penny,
then Ill read it all, OK?
Rosa passed this on.
I can tell you one other thing, David
said. He flipped to another page like the
last. Its split into parts. The Flight of

Gideon, The Battle of Isenfier, The Isle of

Alavon, The Icelands of the North and
He practically heaved the book over to
reach the last part. The Ark of
Co:pern:ica.
Ark? said Rosa. Whats an ark?
The words had hardly left her lips when
the building responded with a shuddering
lurch, as if something had suddenly struck
into its base.
Both firebirds were in the air in a
moment.
Rosa span around. What happened?
Whats that noise? From deep within the
body of the librarium they could hear the
grinding shift of stone, as if some sleeping
giant had woken. Rosa put her hand on the
table top and felt it vibrating. One of the
candlesticks toppled over.

The windows, David said. Look at

the windows. The shutters were banging
back and forth, in danger of breaking free
of their fixings. Suddenly, a jagged light
ruptured the clouds, lighting up the room
in bright blue flashes.
Then the rain came down, like a volley
of roaring drums. Rain in quantities that
no-one living on the world of Co:pern:ica
had ever witnessed before. A phenomenon
way outside the Grand Design. The
plausible impossible. A tempest.
A storm.
David was staggered. He had once
discussed storms with Mr Henry after
coming across some scenes in a book of
meteorology. The curator, while admitting
that his knowledge of atmos:ferics was
limited, had reassured the boy that storms

could not happen on a world where there

were no great bodies of water (he called
them oceans or lakes) and so much of
the surface was devoid of plants. (The
daisies, he told him, were a small miracle
of something he called nature.)
Nevertheless, David had carried the
pictures with him and seen, on paper,
what a bad storm could do. It could lead
to devastation, homelessness and fear.
And the single most striking image of all.
Flood.

9
Both humans immediately ran to a room
where they could peer straight out of a
window. Rosa arrived half a sec before
David and was first to see the impact the
rain was having. Far below, at a frankly
dizzying drop, the daisy fields had turned
dark green and sodden, their flower heads
swaying in a current of rising water. The
speed of the transition was staggering.
And although it was impossible to see or
measure, Rosa formed the idea that the
rain was falling considerably further than
the limits of the Bushley librarium. Where
was all this water coming from? And how
high would it ultimately go? A great
spume suddenly erupted from the well,

spraying the southern face of the building.

Rosa squealed and jumped back in shock.
Whats happening? she cried. David,
whats caused this?
He truly had no idea. But he could feel
a growing tremor in the boards beneath his
feet and a fundamental change in the auma
of the books. Something monumental was
about to happen. And Penny and his
mother must be right at the heart of it.
Come on. Weve got to find the
others, he said.
But the librarium had its own ideas
about that.
As they dashed for the lower floors,
Rosa stumbled (for the first time ever on
the laces of her boots) and happened to
look back towards the tapestry room. To
her astonishment, the arched doorway had

changed. It was taller. Greener. Its frame

sweetly dressed with twists of leaves. The
old wooden clock had disappeared from
view, replaced by a kind of rotating vent
through which a dial of sunlight was
passing (sunlight, yes, despite the rain).
The fraying bell pull was no longer
hanging from the ceiling. But in the place
where it would have made a shadow on
the wall, something organic was moving.
A small and incredibly beautiful creature
with patterned yellow wings as fragile as
paper was fluttering about there. Rosa
beckoned David to come and see,
unaware that hed taken off in the opposite
direction. Suddenly, the building lurched
again and she was thrown, face down, to
the floor. It seemed to take an age to
complete the fall (she had the strange

impression she was gliding through a

rainbow made of stars) and in the time that
it did, many things changed. She would
have been expecting, for instance, to
collide with a hard, unforgiving
floorboard. Instead, the blow was
cushioned by a thick expanse of flower
petals, dried leaves, moss and twigs.
Scent and taste were the first two senses
she recovered and both of them told her
she had struck earth. As she rose to her
knees she understood why. The whole
structure of the room the uprights, the
shelves, certain parts of the ceiling had
merged together and morphed into an area
of woodland, a landscape Rosa had seen
(and admired) in several books. As if this
wasnt strange enough, the marks on her
arm, the scratches inflicted by the cruel

Aunt Petunia, were glowing blue and

drawing the rotating light towards them.
Through the doorway, she heard a
neighing sound. A spiralling breeze stirred
up the leaves. From their dappled centre
came a pure white beast that tore Rosanna
apart with love and wonder in equal
measure. She cried out for David to come.
But David was long gone by then.
He was calling out to her, in fact,
wondering why she wasnt at his shoulder,
all the while trying to make sense of the
changes taking place around him. He had
just burst into a room where the shelves
had formed an assembly of criss-crossing
branches. Among the finer branches, an
animal was hiding. It had a grey furry
body and a comical face. The patches of
black around its slightly poppy eyes made

it look as if it was wearing a mask.

Dropping down in a long J shape behind
it was a tail composed of equal-sized
rings of black and white fur. The animals
keen eyes took David in, then darted
towards another room, in a direction he
hadnt thought to go. The sounds of heavy
purring were drifting out of it. His nose
was also quick to detect a strong variation
of the ripe deposits that Boon left in the
gardenaria at home sometimes. He
stepped towards the door and looked in.
Prowling a floor of sawdust and bark was
the biggest katt he had ever seen. It was
the colour of sand (another lesson of Mr
Henrys) and had a mane of brown hair
around its head, which ran in straggles
down its shoulders and back. Another katt,
of similar size, but mane-less, was lying

on its side in the corner of the room,

licking its paws. The katt on its feet
grunted and raised an imperious gaze. It
flicked its tail and allowed a low growl to
escape from its throat. Then it snorted and
padded towards the visitor. David stood
quite still. The big katt twitched its
nostrils twice, then let its head rest against
his hand, pushing against his palm just as
Boon would have done. David cupped a
hand around its soft, warm ear. Where
did you come from, eh? he whispered.
But in some ways the question was no
longer relevant. He was deeply aware by
now that he was not in control of his
destination or of the changes taking place
in the building. He had run away from
Floor 108 with the sole intention of
heading downstairs. But one glance

through the window of the room he was in

told him he was being taken higher. Even
the daisies had joined the transition. They
were collecting into groups, describing
unusual shapes in the water far below.
Streamlined bodies with triangular fins.
Tails as flexible as a mans hand.
Creatures that moved as easily through
water as firebirds did through air.
Amazing. And so he acknowledged the
presence of the animals and surrendered
his consciousness to the librarium. All he
could do now was follow its will and
pray that Rosa and his family would be
safe.
As it happened, his sister was more than
safe. Indeed, Penny would later come to
learn that it was she whod been the

catalyst for the transformation about to

rock the whole of Co:pern:ica, not merely
the great museum of books at the centre of
it.
Shortly after David and Rosa had left
her, she had set about finding a new book
to read. (She had looked again at The
Twonks, but had left the reading dragon on
the shelf as a marker while she examined
the other books.) It was a daunting
proposition. There were thousands to
choose from. More than one Penelope
could possibly count. So for a while shed
done nothing but roam back and forth,
reading the titles of any that looked
interesting. (Aleron had wisely moved off
her shoulder because she banged him
every time she tilted her head.) In time,
not surprisingly, her neck began to ache.

The titles blurred. The sheer quantity of

them began to overwhelm her. That
became a barrier to making a choice. She
sighed, wishing David could be there to
do the choosing. It was surely more fun,
when you knew nothing about books, to
have one recommended by someone who
did? Strangely, as this thought drifted
through her mind, she felt that the books
were responding to it. Two or three times
she glanced nervously around her, thinking
she could hear them murmuring something.
But that was just silly (wasnt it?). More
likely she was hearing a breeze from the
window, stirring up the ancient dust. She
went over to the window and leaned
forward on tiptoes, supporting her body
on the deep recess of stone so she could
get a good view out. A few light raindrops

were falling. Her eyes grew wide with

delight. Rain was something she had never
seen before, though her mother had taught
her how in certain areas of Co:pern:ica
water fell from the sky sometimes. Penny
stretched a hand and caught a cool drop. It
twinkled in the centre of her palm for a
moment. Then with a gentle pop! it burst
and its light travelled over her shoulder,
flaring as it entered the darker librarium.
She whipped round to see where it had
gone. And there, to her astonishment,
three-quarters of the way down the aisle
between the shelves, stood a little girl,
slightly more than half her own height.
Hello, said the girl, and waved a
dainty hand. She was wearing a pretty
white dress, white ankle socks and red,
buckled shoes. Her hair was the dark

flowing colour of Rosas. Her eyes were

the striking blue of Davids. Around her
wrist was a bracelet of violet daisies. The
raindrop was glittering brightly in front of
her, like a star in the centre of her chest.
Who are you? Penny gasped.
The child tightened her lips as if she
wasnt quite sure what name might be
appropriate. Her eyebrows came together
in a sweet sort of frown. ImAngel,
she said at last, as if shed solved a
riddle.
Penny glanced sideways at Aleron. The
firebird was awestruck, barely breathing.
He was perched precariously on one of
the shelves, trying to get his left foot to
take a hold. Eventually his balance gave
out and he had to make a semi-circular
flight to regain his position. He closed his

wings in a fluster as he landed, before

resuming his mesmerised pose.
Do you live here? Penny asked.
The girl swung her body and thought
about this. Sometimes, she answered. I
like it here more than anywhere, I think.
She glanced along the shelves. Are you
looking for a book?
Yes, said Penny. But I dont know
which to choose.
Ill help you, said Angel.
Have you read them? Penny said. She
couldnt keep a mild squeak out of her
voice. She was, of course, a tiny bit put
out by the thought that someone much
younger than herself might have more
knowledge of the books than she did.
But the little girl shook her head and
said, No but I know which one youd

like. Ill show you where it is. Its been

waiting for you for quite a long time.
That was an odd thing to say, thought
Penny. All the same, she gave a grateful
nod.
From the centre of her back Angel put
out two wings. All you have to do is
believe, she said.
Pennys mouth opened as wide as any
book. Alerons reaction was a little more
pronounced. With a drowsy rrrrrrhhhh,
he fell off the shelf and thudded to the
floor in a faint. Penny gasped and gathered
him into her arms. To her relief, she could
still trace air in his nostrils.
Angel seemed unconcerned. Leave him
on a shelf. Ill look after him, she said.
She flipped her hands and set the raindrop
floating. It jinked left and right in a wavy

line, before it whizzed past Pennys head.

She turned to see it sparkling at the end of
a row.
How did you? get wings she
wanted to say. But when she looked back,
Angel had disappeared.
So Penny set Aleron down as requested
and hurried off in pursuit of the raindrop.
It wasnt difficult to follow, but it was
quick. She was nearly out of breath by the
time shed skidded to a halt in a section
marked Animal Stories. The drop was
hovering beside a row of books where the
authors names all began with an R. At
first there seemed nothing remarkable
about that. Then one name suddenly stood
out from the rest.
Rain.
David Rain.

Penny felt her senses whirl. The only

feeling she could liken it to was the
moment during the Alicia story when she
and David had looked through the window
at the end of the tunnel and peered into the
room which had seemed so very familiar
to her, yet she had never seen before. If
her father, Harlan, had been at her side he
might, with a little more knowledge, have
postulated that the name David Rain was
a product of the time nexus linking
Co:pern:ica, Ki:mera and Earth. As potent
in its way as the dragon word
sometimes. As meaningful as anything in
Pennys life. And then there was the title:
Snigger and the Nutbeast. That seemed to
set off a second wave of giddiness. Penny
read it over and over until her head began
to feel as huge as a cave. Snigger.

Nutbeast. David.
Believe.
She shook herself and made a decision.
This was the book she wanted, for sure.
She hooked a finger over the spine and
tilted it towards her. At the same time, just
as if a switch had been thrown, the
building seemed to shake very gently.
Penny paused. She hadnt caused that
had she? She waited half a sec then
dragged the book again. With a swish, it
slotted out of its position. Once again, she
felt the librarium react. It seemed to yawn
(distantly) in every direction. Somewhere
far below, maybe at ground level, she
heard an almighty drawn-out creak.
She gulped and looked at the book. On
the cover was a quirky illustration of a
hunched up figure in a long black coat. It

was skulking beside a large old tree,

being watched from one of its branches by
a tiny grey animal with a curving bushy
tail. Penny opened it using just one finger.
Straight away, the whole book altered its
shape and the animal on the cover grew
out of the pages. Penny squealed and let it
go. The animal landed on all four feet,
flicked its bushy tail and with great agility
climbed the shelving up to Pennys head
height. There it stopped, twitched its
whiskers and gave a happy chirrup. Then
it sat bolt upright with its tail held stiff,
staring at something at Pennys back.
Well, well, said a voice. What have
you done?
Penny gasped and flattened herself
against a wall. The speaker was Aunt
Gwyneth, fully grown once more. In her

right hand she was holding the dragons

claw. In her left was the cage shed been
imprisoned in. Inside it now was Eliza
Merriman.

10
Hhh! You! Penny cried. Her eyes darted
wildly towards the cage. Eliza was trying
to call out a warning, but her voice was
weak and did not carry far. She raised her
arms and tried signalling instead, but Aunt
Gwyneth shook the cage from side to side,
sending its occupant crashing back and
forth like the clapper of a bell.
What have you done? screamed
Penny. Let my mum go!
Oh, spare me your emotional blather,
said the Aunt. Did you really think I
wouldnt get free? Your mother wont be
harmed. Shes being taught a lesson. She
has to know who is in control, thats all.
A lively flash of blue light paused the

argument. Penny jumped a little and

glanced through the window. Suddenly,
the rain was pelting down. Another long,
low creak rose up from below and the
building swayed in a circular motion, as if
it had been cast adrift from the ground.
From deep at its roots came the sound of
grinding stone; further forward, the groan
of stretching timber. Too confused to take
it in, Penny returned her thoughts to her
mother. After the battering shed taken,
Eliza was sprawled over the floor of the
cage. Not injured, but very dizzy. How
did you grow big and put Mum in there?
Ah, well, said the Aunt, sounding
rather smug. Id love to be able to claim
that I did it, but it was really the influence
of this little gem. She twiddled the claw
in front of her face, admiring its slender

outline and strength. Before you ask, its

a dragon relic, put here by a seer called
Agawin. Dont pester me with questions
about him; I really dont have the time. I
think he intended that your brother should
find this. And I propose to deliver it to
David for a price.
What does it do? Penny growled. To
her relief, her mother was beginning to sit
up.
Well, if I remember my training
correctly, most Aunts would have called it
a wand. You wave it, you wish, and it
performs certain magicks. Something
youre quite good at, it seems. She
circled a hand, inviting the girl to observe
the changes taking place around them. The
book shelves were slowly reinventing
themselves into a network of planks and

ropes. A long-armed creature with

drooping eyes and scratchy golden fur
swung across the room and entered a boxshaped compartment in the corner, giving
a whimpering call as it went. The whole
librarium was coming alive with hoots
and calls and screeches and chirrs, not
unlike when someone pressed the
doorbell. And all the while there was the
sense of movement. A slight pitch
sideways. A mild tilt. Buoyancy.
Oh yes, this is all your doing, said the
Aunt,
picking
up
on
Pennys
bewilderment. The book you just
transformed was a key. A trigger to a
complex feat of metamorphosis. Once
activated, the whole building displays its
true purpose. Do you know what youve
begun here, child? The rain should give

you a clue. Its a boat. A very large boat.

A floating sanctuary called an ark. A
refuge for animals stripped from the Dead
Lands during the time of the Great
Re:duction. Clever, I must admit, to
disguise it as a museum for books a
dreary place that no one would think to
show interest in. I wonder how he worked
it out? What arrangements he made? What
lengths he went to? What sacrifices he
endured? Her gaze fell solidly on the
claw again. What help he had? I sense
the involvement of dragons in this. And
did he take in all the species, I wonder?
Or did he leave out some of the uglier
ones? I do hope hes housed a giraffe. I
always loved the old digi:grafs of
Her musing stopped abruptly. For the
last few moments of her lumbering lecture

shed been talking to the air in front of her.

She was about to whip around when
Penny knocked into her from behind. With
a rush, the girl wrestled the cage free and
set about making her escape. Ordinarily,
this sort of behaviour would not have
troubled the Aunt Su:perior, for it was no
effort for a woman of her capabilities to
track down a frightened, desperate child.
But the kick that Penny had administered
to the old womans bony knee-cap did
madden her and hinder her response. The
reprisal, when it came, was swift and
savage. A stake of wood, ripped from the
still-growing edifice around them, flashed
through the air and speared the floor in
front of Penny. It was as tall as her chin
and landed so close that she could almost
scent the individual splinters as it

quivered underneath her nose.

The next one goes through your foot,
said the Aunt. Now come back here,
before I run out of patience.
Penny, do as she says, squeaked a
voice.
The girl looked down in anguish at her
mother. But you were warning me to get
away, she whispered, remembering the
flapping of arms.
I know, but shell hurt you if you try
again. She needs us. The claw wont work
without our auma. She tricked me into
finding it and turned it against me. But Im
alive and so will you be if
What are you whispering? snapped
the Aunt.
Penny turned around, her breathing loud
and heavy in her chest. She felt the ark

rock again and suddenly an idea came to

her. She blurted out, Is it true you need us
to work that thing?
I t helps, Aunt Gwyneth said
scornfully. Now get over here.
I know something you dont.
Penny, what are you doing? Eliza
hissed.
The Aunt sighed and tapped her fingers
against the claw. Youre deluding
yourself, child but do go on.
I saw a flying girl.
Eliza said, What?
Aunt Gwyneths face darkened but
with interest, not malice.
She brought me here, said Penny.
She showed me the book. She said her
name was Angel. I know where she is.
These last five words were an outright lie,

for Penny had no idea where Angel had

gone to, and would never have given the
girl up if she did. Her plan was simply to
make the Aunt curious and gain a little
more time. The room had completed its
transformation. And the chaka-chakachaka noises coming from next door were
an indication something was happening
there as well. How long could it be before
David or the firebirds came to check on
her? Or the magical Angel herself?
In four strides, Aunt Gwyneth was at
Pennys side. She took the girl by the hair
and yanked her closer. Pennys face
screwed up in pain.
Im glad you think it hurts. Its meant
to, child. Dont ever disobey me again. If
youre lying about this angel girl Ill make
you so small youll only be fit for spider

food. Oh, silly me. You dont know what a

spider is, do you? Think of a creature with
spindly legs and a hairy body and an ugly
mouth that would trap you and starve you
and use its saliva to soften your body
before it digests you. They will be running
all over this ark. There might even be one
or two in this room. She rolled Pennys
hair a little tighter in her fist. Where is
this flying girl?
Be-behind you, Penny rasped.
There was a pause. The Aunt read her
captives eyes. Surprisingly, the girl was
telling the truth.
Well, almost the truth.
She threw Penny aside and spun herself
around, hopeful of seeing a phenomenon
that was only ever talked about in the most
secretive meetings of Aunt Su:periors.

Instead, she came face to face with

another kind of wonder: three dragons. Or
to give the species its correct name:
dragonets. Each was roughly four times
the size of a firebird. One green. One red.
One a soft cream colour. The latter was
exceptionally beautiful. The sleek lines of
her face, from her sweetly-sculpted ears
to the tips of her exquisite nostrils, were
so perfect they might have been
imagineered by light. She was enjoying
the fact that by moving her wings far
quicker than her heartbeat she could hover
in mid-air. She seemed particularly proud
of her arms, especially the dexterity of
movement in her five hooked claws. By
that same token, however, she looked
acutely upset to see a single dragon claw
in the hands of an enemy of the Ark of

Agawin. Her jewelled eyes shone in the

semi-darkness, sparkling through a rich
kaleidoscope of colours before settling on
a single colour: crimson. Her companions
adjusted their irises likewise. On a single
command (a hrrr, not a rrrh) they opened
their jaws and made fire in their throats.
And before Aunt Gwyneth could quicken
her thoughts to imagineer an escape, shed
been doused in flame from head to toe.

11
But, amazingly, it did not kill her. Her
body pitched and jerked within its sleeve
of fire and she screeched as loudly as any
creature on the ark (setting off an echoing
cacophony throughout), yet when it was
done she was still standing. The only
indications of any kind of burning were
the crackling frizzles at the ends of her
hair and the lingering smell of charred
carbons (mainly motes of wood that had
settled on her clothing during the
transformation). She lifted her gaze
towards her attackers. Thank you, she
said to them, rolling the words together in
a growl. I feel so much better for that.
And here was a lesson for Aurielle to

learn: a dragon cannot flame its own kind.

All their combined assault had achieved
was to energise the claw and make Aunt
Gwyneth stronger. She was not slow to
explore her new potential, either. Aleron
and Aurielle wisely backed away from
her furious glare, but Azkiar, ever the
impulsive one, bared his fangs (fangs!)
and made a lunge for her. With one flick
of the claw, she sent him tumbling
backwards. He crashed into a wooden
stanchion, bringing down a section of the
structure which housed the gibbering
animals. The same impact scared away a
small collective of dark-coloured birds
that had been strutting about on one of the
runs. They scattered in front of Aurielle
and funnelled through the window. When
they had cleared, Aunt Gwyneth was

nowhere to be seen.
At that point, Penny came bounding
forward and said with some urgency, She
flew away! She made herself into a bird!
She put the cage aside and flapped her
arms. Aurielle, who had settled on the
floor by now, blew a smoke ring and
flexed her optical triggers. Although she
did not understand what had happened to
the eyrie or the exciting transition the
firebirds had gone through, the advantages
of it were plainly felt. One was improved
vision. She let her gaze stream into the
misty sky. The birds were dark specks, not
much bigger than swollen rain drops. One
had separated off from the group and was
spiralling up the side of the ark. Aurielle
let her eyes zoom in on it. Despite
reaching the limits of her sight, she was

able to verify Pennys account. The black

bird had an arrogant glint in its eye and
one of its claws was coloured dark green.
Youve got to go after her! Penny
gabbled on. Shes going to hurt David. I
know she is.
David. The one word of human-speak
Aurielle understood. She flipped a
worried glance at Azkiar. He was winded
and had suffered damage to a wing (one of
his balancing stigs had sheared). He
would not be flying anywhere quickly at
least not in a straight line. And all this
time the Aunt was escaping. Aurielle
knew she must act. Telling Aleron to
guard the humans (and to please keep
Azkiar put, for once), she lifted off and
arrowed her body through the window.
She rolled twice in the rain before

opening her wings with a satisfying phut!

And away she went in pursuit.
Aunt Gwyneth meanwhile or the
raven shed become (a deliberate lowlevel transformation to preserve the
capability of the claw) was also
enjoying the wonders of flight. She was
soaring through the air, angling her head
both left and right, taking in the changes to
the librarium. Her dialogue with Penny
had not been overstated. The giant stone
building had metamorphosed into a
colossal floating vessel, with a bloated
wooden hull and a sturdy prow. It sat upon
an ocean (there was no better word) of
clear blue water still being patterned by
tumbling rain. A host of creatures, some in
shoals, some individual giants, swam
alongside as it bobbed through the water.

What powered it, who could say? Where

it was going, the Aunt could not tell. But it
was all the while being joined by an
increasing number of smaller boats,
imagineered by bewildered Co:pern:icans
who had adopted the ark as their template
for survival. They could be seen lining the
sides of their vessels, aiming eyeglasses
and tele:scopes at the leviathan
dominating the rising water. None of the
supporting boats was any taller than the
ninth row of planking in the arks
strapping hull. And none were within the
shadow of its girth. But all of them were
going where its bow wave pointed. What
other choice did they have?
Aunt Gwyneth banked to one side and
turned her thoughts to the structure of the
craft. The rooms of the librarium were

still plain to see, though their famous

square windows were now uniformly
arched and the rooms were arranged, not
in recurring even-sized floors, but in a
series of concentric oval decks. An
animals head could be seen poking out of
a window here and there. (The longnecked giraffes were at mid-terrace level
about halfway back.) Walking the main
deck were two enormous beasts with
wrinkled grey skins, huge flapping ears
and the longest nasal attachments the Aunt
had ever seen. But where, she wondered,
was David Merriman? Her dark raven eye
swept upwards. Like the building before
it, the highest storeys of the ark were
hidden under lines of frothy cloud. Her
instincts told her that this was where she
would find her quarry. So she set a course

for a point just above the top level of

white, thinking she would swoop down
and surprise any creature concealed
within it. But the higher she climbed, the
thinner grew the air and the thinner grew
her blood and the less appealing this plan
became. Of greater concern was the sight
of Aurielle coming after her. The cream
dragonet was gaining fast. Cursing the
ravens pitiful shortcomings, Aunt
Gwyneth dipped, early, into the cloud.
There was no point challenging a creature
better adapted to altitude than she. But the
use of guile was another matter. Inside the
mist, the advantage would swing the way
of the opponent most cunning. The raven
gave out a condescending caarrk. The
stupid dragon bird would be dead within
minits.

But what awaited her inside the cloud

was something far stranger than condensed
water vapour. As she burst through the
outer layers she emerged onto a bright
white world that bore no resemblance to
any landscape she had ever seen before. It
stretched for miles in all directions,
mostly flat, but with occasional knots of
jagged white blocks, all made, she
thought, from the same crystalline matter
as the general surface. What struck her
most of all was the intense cold, which
seemed to parch the blue sky of half its
oxi:gen. She could feel it stinging the
linings of her nostrils and tightening the
feathers at the edges of her wings,
hampering her ability for fine changes of
direction.
But there was only one direction the

Aunt was headed in. And it was soon very

plain to see. Sitting on the surface of these
hostile surroundings was the animal David
Merriman had changed into to destroy the
Ix Cluster. Aunt Gwyneth circled it.
Twice. It didnt move or attempt an attack.
Was it him? Was it David? Was he
imagineering all of this? The cold was
biting at her legs by now, and the lubricant
that swivelled the ravens eyeballs
seemed to have turned to splinters of
glass. So the Aunt set down at a
comfortable distance from the great white
beast and transformed once again to her
natural self. This, she quickly realised,
might not have been wise. For if the cold
felt harsh against the ravens feet, it
scratched like a katt on her exposed face.
Whatever would be done here must be

done fast. She raised the claw and

pointing it said, Identify yourself. What is
this place?
I am an ice bear, the creature replied,
in an unhurried voice so thick with pride
that it seemed to curve the air around it.
These are the Icelands of the North.
Cut the twaddle. Are you David?
The bear blew a stream of air from its
snout. Sometimes, it said. It tilted its
commanding head towards the claw.
Move and Ill turn you to dust, spat
the Aunt. (Another poor decision: the
spittle quickly hardened to a spike on her
lip.) She whipped around, hearing
wingbeats overhead. Aurielle had just
ripped through the cloud. But instead of
swooping down to strike, the dragonet just
streaked by as if nothing below her even

existed.
She cannot see us, the bear explained.
From this time point on, the firebirds
play no part in your destiny.
Aunt Gwyneth flashed the claw again.
And what would you know about my
destiny?
The ice bear lifted its chin. Suddenly,
the space in front of it was filled with
flakes of twinkling ice. Its here. In the
Is. All around you, Gwyneth. Each flake
is a fire star, a portal to a probable future.
Only one of them leads to your survival.
Despite the plethora of stabbing pains it
caused, Aunt Gwyneth furrowed her brow.
The fire stars shimmered, each one
offering a tantalising glimpse of a choice
she might have made or a thought she
might have had or a villainous plan she

might yet hatch in some darkened recess of

her scheming mind. Fire stars. Is. Futures.
Time. She risked extending her fain for a
moment and realised she was standing
(floating, maybe?) in a limitless matrix of
pure fain. At last, she had found the
Higher. Now all she needed was to take
command of it.
For as long as I have this, she
sneered, aiming the claw at the ice bears
forehead (several hundred flakes
immediately twinkled), I will be in
control of my future. She let the threat
seep into the matrix. Again it was the
bear, not the Higher, that replied.
Closing its eyes to concentrate, it said,
Any act of aggression would lead to your
death. The claw is about to turn against
you, Aunt. Give it up with grace and you

may survive.
May? she snarled.
The bears ears gave the tiniest of
twitches. The ice flakes flurried and one
seemed to separate out from the rest.
This star guarantees your existence.
Touch the claw to it and you will be safe.
The creat:or is needed at the Battle of
Isenfier. Join us and it will let you live.
Us? Aunt Gwyneth scoffed.
The bear opened its haunting eyes. At
the same moment, the figure of a child
appeared. She came from a space just
beyond the bears head and flew down to
the world of ice at its feet. Rosa emerged
on the other side, sitting on the back of a
stunning white horse. When the horse
shook its mane, beads of white and violet
light spiralled along the length of its horn.

And all around, as far as any human eye

could see, there appeared a multitude of
bears.
Aunt Gwyneth stood back. This is a
trick, she hissed. A clever projection,
nothing more.
The little girl sighed, as if shed lived
through this many times before. Aunty, I
think you should believe us, she said. I
think you should be good this time. I really
want to help you.
But, like the cold creeping into her
knuckles, badness was ingrained in Aunt
Gwyneths soul. Disregarding every
warning shed been given, she attempted
to draw upon the power of dragons to
destroy the solitary flake in front of her. A
loud crackle of energy lit up the claw and
produced a phenomenal surge of power.

The impulse sent the Aunt flying

backwards as if shed been hit by a
speeding taxicar. Issuing a ghastly scream,
she blasted through the cloud and shot into
the air surrounding the ark. Several
hundred tele:scopes followed her flight.
They saw her go spinning beyond the first
line of boats to end with a thumping splash
in the water.
And still her life was not quite done
with.
The three occupants of the boat shed
fallen nearest to hooked her towards them
and hauled her in. When they turned her
over, one would have gladly thrown her
back.
Harlan, what is it? Mathew Lefarr
said. This womans going to die without
our help if she isnt already gone.

Harlan Merriman kept his distance.

How in the name of Agawin did she get
here? Despite the patch he now wore
across one eye (a painful reminder of their
clash with the Re:movers), he would
know this face anywhere. Thats the Aunt
who sent me to the Dead Lands. Shes
evil, Mat.
She might be; were not, said
Bernard. Taking care to protect a large
swelling in his ankle, he knelt down
beside the Aunt and held his ear close to
her grey, wet lips. Under a nearby bench
was a rolled-up blanket which he yanked
out and spread across the quivering body
Hes right, Harlan, Mathew added.
We cant come back and put aside the
spirit we found at Alavon. If nothing else,
we owe our dead friends that. Whatever

this woman has done to you, we must

show her some compassion in what might
be her final few secs.
Harlan swallowed hard. For a strange,
other-worldly moment, his conscience
wrestled with his feelings of vengeance
and the entire universe seemed to turn
around him. He snapped out of it and
made his decision. Ill find something
she can rest her head on, he muttered.
(He had tried to imagineer a pillow, but
the creation of the boat had sapped the last
reaches of his fain.) He disappeared into
the cabin at the prow.
The moment he was gone, the Aunts
lungs gave a hideous rasp and she spat a
small fountain of water over Bernards
knees. Please, try to be calm, he said.
He thought to hold her hands, but they

were under the blanket.

The Aunt stared, half-lidded, at death,
but still had time for one last
pronouncement: My bo-dy is bro-ken,
but nnnmy will And it seemed to
both the on looking men that a slight smile
was playing across her lips as she said it.
Mathew saw her hand moving under the
blanket. Bernard, whats she doing?
Bernard drew the cloth back. On the
floor of the boat, in a thin green scrawl,
was a message:

Goodness, he said. She must be

writing a will. (One of the few times on
Co:pern:ica that the traditional skills of
writing were properly employed.) He
looked at the unfinished word. What is it

you want to write? Is it leave? What do

you want to leave and to whom?
Why is it green? Mathew muttered.
Bernard, show me the pen.
But Bernard, still concerned with his
act of citizenship, leaned closer to the
Aunt and repeated loudly: I, Gwyneth,
also known as Gwilanna, leavewhat?
Shaking wildly, her hand began to echo
her bodys distress. Please, let me help
you, Bernard said. He tried to steady her
wrist. All he received for this act of
goodwill was a spiteful hiss and a spray
of saliva across his robe. He jerked back,
bumping Mathew and blocking his view.
Harlans view was not impeded,
however. As he stepped out of the cabin
he not only saw the words but what was
creating them. Mathew, stop her! he

shouted and picked up a boat hook. For all

his willingness to show the Aunt mercy,
he would gladly have plunged the hook
into her just then. But as the dragons claw
at last fell out of her hand there was no
more need for violence. Aunt Gwyneth
had departed the world of Co:pern:ica
with a glazed look of triumph etched on
her face and one last trick in her miserable
heart. Bernard had been wrong about the
next word in her will. It was not leave.
The full message was this:

Part Five

which speaks of many

futures,
probable and otherwise,
and looks back
upon tragedy and
forward onto change

1
Via a winch on the lower decks, they
brought Aunt Gwyneths body onto the ark
and laid her out in a manner befitting a
woman of her status. In a room not
inhabited by any of the animals, David
imagineered a suitable bier and an open
casket in which to place the corpse.
Around it he created an auma field that
would preserve the remains and alert him
to any form of tampering. As an extra
precaution, he placed two able firebirds
on watch. The window was shuttered. The
lights kept low. Somehow, the chatter of
animal noises respectfully managed to
bypass this room. Only the gentle creaking
of the boat accompanied the Aunt on

whatever journey her soul had now taken.

It was, as Harlan Merriman would
comment, a most bizarre situation. Hardly
the ideal circumstances in which to stage a
family reunion. Yet everyone present,
young Penny included, was powerfully
drawn to that grey, austere face. Even in
death, the Aunt Su:perior exerted an
unprecedented level of control.
Almost as an afterthought, the greetings
began. First, the relief of a battle-scarred
husband reunited with his adoring wife
(now returned to her normal size
following the demise of the Aunts
powers). Then the slightly lost-for-words
delight of an eight-year-old child meeting
the father she never knew she had, and the
pride of that father for the son who stood
at the helm of the greatest revolution in

Co:pern:ican history an ark, transformed

from a structure made of stone. Much
wonder was expressed about the boat and
its cargo, and the flood water, which still
continued to rise. Then there was the
grateful presentation to the Merriman
family of Mathew Lefarr, the brave and
noticeably handsome young man who had
risked his life to bring Harlan and Bernard
back from the Dead Lands. Plus Bernard
himself. Half-crippled. Exhausted. Not a
little traumatised. But there. Forever at
Harlans side.
Only one person failed to find any real
joy in the gathering. Rosa swept in late
and was mortified to see the pale-faced
corpse of their worst adversary back on
the boat. Turning to David she
immediately railed, Why is she here,

wetting my ark? If shes dead, dump her in

the ocean and be done.
Thats not a good idea, said Harlan.
Rosa turned and glared at Davids
father. And perhaps there was some hint
of lingering angst about the way Mr Henry
had passed away which made her say,
with more rancour than necessary, This
is my home. I dont want that manky old
witch on show, thank you.
I completely understand that, Harlan
said, raising a hand to keep Penny and
Eliza at bay, but we need to watch her,
Rosa. She may not be dead.
What? said Eliza, covering her throat.
Penny stood on tiptoes and looked again
at the body. She looks sort of dead to
me.
Rosa clearly agreed. She stared at

Harlan Merriman as if he had just jetted in

from another universe and had no
understanding of the bi:ology of this
world. Muttering something only she
could hear, she bent down and picked up a
small stake of wood and ran forward to
drive it through the Aunts sodden heart.
She would have succeeded if David
hadnt caught her and wrestled her,
kicking and punching, off the ground.
Let go of me, she argued.
No, he said, holding on tight (very
tight). Penny looked on open-mouthed. A
smile lit the face of Mathew Lefarr. Just
listen to what Dad has to say, will you?
Harlan pulled the dragon claw out of
his robe and recounted all that had
happened on their boat.
Rosa dismissed his concerns in an

instant. It hardly matters what she wrote,

does it? Look at the evidence. She
pointed in the vague direction of the
casket to illustrate the fact that the Aunt
had clearly failed.
But Harlan would not give up. The
claw is extremely powerful. We found it
in the Dead Lands, hidden in a stone dais,
guarded by a secret key. I believe its a
relic from a dragon called Gawain, during
the era of a man called Agawin
Agawin? To everyones surprise it
was Eliza whod interrupted Harlans
flow.
You know this name? asked Mathew.
Eliza said, Aunt Gwyneth spoke of him
once.
We know of Agawin, too, said
David. From Mr Henry, the old curator.

He looked at Rosa, who kept silent, for

once.
Anyway, Harlan continued. The
claw is not to be taken lightly. I tried to
call upon its influence myself and it
brought he glanced at Penny and chose
his words carefully, great unhappiness
upon us. His eyes sought Davids in a
clear appeal for a confidential meeting.
Penny pushed her thumb against her
upper lip and looked for the longest time
at the coffin. It is magick, she said,
wide-eyed, to David. She used the claw
to make Mum small.
She did what? said Harlan, looking
concerned. He felt for Elizas hand.
Long story, she whispered. Im OK
now.
Lets just finish her off and be sure,

growled Rosa. Although physically calm

by now, she was still a whirlwind of
vengeance. What are you looking at?
she suddenly snapped at Mathew, though it
was clear to everyone else in the room
what his mesmerised gaze of admiration
meant. And she, for all her puffed-up
stances, had taken more than one extended
glance at him.
Mathew turned to Harlan and set his
face straight. I agree with Penny and
Rosa. She looks gone, Harlan. Not even
an Aunt Su:perior cheats death.
I would like to say something. A new
voice rose above the rest. Eliza
approached the casket and took Aunt
Gwyneths hand. Everyone, this is my
mother.
What? said Rosa.

Penny looked at the adults around her.

So, Ive got a grandma as well now? A
dead one, granted. And evil to boot. But a
grandma all the same (who might yet
return to life, apparently). She squinted at
the face, looking for some family
resemblance. (There was none.)
Eliza continued, Whatever else she is,
and whatever shes done, she brought me
into this world and I owe her some small
respect for that. Its my wish that she lies
here in peace, as David has arranged.
Harlan Merriman was horrified. No.
Eliza, thats not possible. Youyou cant
be part of her.
At this point, Bernard Brotherton
stepped in. In a few hushed, well-chosen
words he advised Harlan not to let doubts
or prejudices come rising to the surface.

Harlan should rejoice. Let him not forget

what his heroics at Alavon had achieved.
Even if there was a question mark about
Elizas heritage, the fact remained that he
had been returned to the woman he loved
and to his children. Let a light shine on
his fortune now. It was time for the
Merrimans to be as one. Turning to the
rest of the room he announced, I agree
with Eliza, but for slightly different
reasons. The death of an Aunt
Even a manky one, said Mathew,
smiling at Rosa. (She turned her face
away.)
needs to be properly reported and
catalogued. Its traditional to show them
lying in state after death, which satisfies
the needs of both sides, does it not?
It doesnt satisfy mine, said Rosa.

Bernard finished what he had to say,

regardless. Their role on Co:pern:ica is
sure to be re-evaluated because of this
incident. I recommend we seek
professional advice. A counsellor would
know how best to deal with it.
What about Strmberg? Harlan said.
Do you have :coms on the boat, David?
I dont know, he said. Since the
change, everything was different. But
hes bound to see the ark and come
looking. The firebirds could find him.
What do you think, Rosa?
She sighed heavily. One dark,
temperamental kicker boot tapped a
disgruntled rhythm on the floor. I need to
talk to you about Aurielle and Azkiar.
Who? said Penny (ears the size of).
Shut up, Rosa tutted, Im talking to

David.
You!
Penny, be quiet, her mother said.
Not here, Rosa said to him, flicking
her head to suggest they meet on a higher
deck.
Where are they? he commingled, which
only made her frown.
She responded with a little guile of her
own. Rrrh! she went. Right now, I
dont know.
Is something wrong?
She rolled her eyes in exasperation.
Rr-rrrh! she replied. We cant find the
tapestry.
At this point, Mathew knocked on Aunt
Gwyneths coffin (to gain attention, not
entry) and said, Erm, is this a private
conversation or can anyone with feathers

join in?
Its private, said Rosa, very moody,
very definite. If she had possessed
feathers, they would have been very
ruffled just then. Once again she looked at
Mathew and said, rather cryptically, You
need to shave.
What? he said, a little taken aback.
Why pick on him? Not Harlan or Bernard?
But as far as Rosa was concerned, the
conversation was ended. Laying her
fingers over the marks on her arm, she
made a sharp whistling noise. Within
moments, a white light at the doorway
heralded the arrival of her unicorn,
Terrafonne.
Everyone present, David excepted,
stood back in awe of the perfect white
horse.

With a snap of her fingers, Rosa bade

the unicorn kneel to let her mount him.
Talking of flying things, she said, I
havent seen Angel since yknow. You
might like to tell our guests what to
expect. She turned Terrafonne through a
half circle. The horse reared up and
drummed his hooves on the boards. Ill
do what I can about Strmberg. Come and
find me. And with that, she whooshed
away on a trail of stars.
Wow, whistled Mathew, she is
some girl.
Just for a moment, a hint of resentment
might have entered Davids eyes. Harlan,
keen to avoid any kind of bad feeling,
directed his son to another topic. Whos
Angel, David? What was that about?
I know! Ive seen her, Penny said,

bouncing. Shes a little girl. Littler than

me. She wears a white dress and a daisy
chain on her wrist.
A little girl? Eliza looked shocked.
Well, where is she? And whos looking
after her?
Angel kind of takes care of herself,
said David.
Shes got wings, said Penny.
Wings? said the travellers from
Alavon.
To which Penny added, rather
pointlessly, She flies. Just another
everyday occurrence in the librarium of
many surprises, was it not?
The ark rocked a little, left to right,
which seemed to set the mood even again.
A trumpeting cry in the distance prompted
Bernard Brotherton to ask, Who tends to

the animals, David?

The ark also looks after itself, he
said. Ive only been through a small part
of it so far, but it seems to be providing
for the animals in every way. If you treat
them with respect, theres no reason you
shouldnt move safely among them.
So its a living entity, Harlan said in
wonder. The quan:tum mech:anisms
controlling it must be
Harlan, stop, said Eliza. We dont
want any seminars. Were agreed that
Aunt Gwyneth isntgoing anywhere. So
I suggest we all get some rest. That eye
needs re-dressing, poor Bernard is
exhausted, and, frankly, you all need a
bath. Can we get hot water, David?
And food? said Bernard, who looked
ready to eat an ark.

David said, The boat responds like the

librarium, Mum. Let it guide you to where
you need to be.
Thank you, she said, drawing Penny
to her side.
So, are we leaving Grandma here?
said the girl.
Eliza tidied a sprig of the Aunts
greying hair. Until Counsellor Strmberg
arrives, yes.
So be it, said Harlan. He looked up at
David and noticed that his sons gaze was
deeply focused on the dragons claw.
Tapping it lightly against his palm, he
walked over and pressed it into Davids
hand. Meet me here at dusk. We must
speak privately.
Are you going to write something?
Penny asked, pushing her tongue between

her lips (a trademark trait of concentration

in the family).
I need to understand this first, David
said. But already it was singing to him of
long-forgotten histories and dangerous
futures and a deeply tragic present. He
could feel Harlans auma imprinted on the
claw, echoing with unresolved grief. But
now was not the moment to delve into that.
Placing the claw into his jacket he said,
Mums right. Relax and enjoy the voyage
wherever it is were going.
With that, he began to make his way
from the room. Somewhere near the
doorway, his mother bade him stop. Is
everything all right with Rosa? she
asked quietly. You looked a bit
concerned back there.
Everythings fine, he told her, and felt

the claw buzz against his heart. Was it

reacting to what it knew was a lie?
Shesmisplaced something. I need to
help her find it. Thankfully, Eliza didnt
pursue this, and David was grateful for
that. For it would have been hard at that
point, trying to explain to his mother what
the Tapestry of Isenfier was, and why
Penny Merriman was pictured on it.
And why Mathew Lefarr was too.

2
Despite the scale of the transformation the
librarium had gone through, there were a
large number of rooms that did not house
animals but still contained books. It was
in one of these that David eventually
tracked Rosa down.
She was sitting alone in the middle of
the floor, forlornly clutching a book to her
chest. Look at them, she said, as David
stumbled in. What are we going to do
about this?
He crouched down among them, shaking
his head. He picked up a book, but having
nowhere to put it simply tossed it aside
again. Is it the same in other rooms?
The ones with books, yes. If Mr Henry

saw this hed be so unhappy. If someone

had put this room into a sack, shaken it up
and spilled out the contents it couldnt
have ended up in a worse mess. Itll take
forever to sort out. I love the animals, but
the books are my life. And now well,
we dont even have a librarium any
more.
I spose not, he said, just as his gaze
was taken by a movement outside.
Through the window he could see a bright
orange firebird circling in the sky. Quite a
number had appeared since their eyrie had
changed. They were mostly seen hunched
up together, perched on the deck rails or
occasionally exercising their wings in
flight. Like the books, their future seemed
undecided. How have the birds reacted?
How do you think? Aleron is

miserable. Ive sent him looking for

Strmberg, just to take his mind off it.
Tell me about the tapestry. When did
you know it was missing?
Rosa tilted her head. Her dark hair fell
forward in an unwashed bundle. After
we zapped Aunt Gwyneth, I rode
Terrafonne back to where I thought 108
would be. I found Aurielle flapping about
in a panic. The whole floors been
transformed into a woodland glade. Its
beautiful, but the candlesticks, chandeliers
and feathers are all gone. And theres no
sign of the tapestry, anywhere. Aurielle
and Azkiar are searching for it.
What about Agawins book?
Gone.
David clapped his hands around his
nose and sighed. I dont understand this.

How can we have come this far and have

both these things go missing? This cant be
what Agawin intended.
Maybe they transformed?
Perhaps they had. This was an outcome
he hadnt considered. It would have
needed some powerful auma to create the
glade and its organic plant life. What if
that was now hiding the mystery of
Isenfier? Or Terrafonne, for instance, was
The Book of Agawin?
For a moment, the only sounds that
filled the room were the creaks of the ark
as it sliced through the water far below.
Then Rosa moved the dialogue sideways,
saying, Its Mathew on the tapestry, isnt
it?
David took his mind off the
transformation theory and stared at the

books around his feet. I dont know. He

looks more handsome than the image I
remember.
Da-viiid she said. Come on-nn.
Even with the fuzz on his chin hes clearly
the man shown standing next to Penny. Are
you going to tell him?
He shook his head. Its a bit pointless
without the evidence in front of me. I
might tell Dad about the tapestry later.
Rosa rocked back and forth a little,
rubbing her arms. I think its spooky that
everyone who was in that picture is
turning up on the ark. Who is Angel,
David? Where did she come from? It
doesnt bother me that she flies like a bird
or talks to Aunts as if shes known them
for hundreds of spins, but it does make me
weak to see her wearing the daisy chain I

made for you. Shes got your eyes.

Shes got your hair and mouth.
Err, yeah. And the wings?
Azkiar.
What?!
His fire. My tears. Your daisies your
love. Shes part human, part fain, part
firebird oh, and part clay. That was
Mums doing. The little girl we call Angel
is Agawins vision of the perfect species.
Shes more advanced than any of us.
Hang on. How do you know all this?
I absorbed it from the Higher. A lot
happened between the start of the flood
and us facing Aunt Gwyneth. While you
were discovering Terrafonne, I was being
drawn towards a perception matrix called
the Is.
You met the Higher? Here? On the

ark? She pointed vaguely upwards.

The Higher can exist anywhere here,
there, the spaces in between. Its just
easier for us to think in terms of up. In
Central, they massed in a dome on the roof
of the librarium because the air was clear
of other traces of auma.
What do they look like?
They dont look like anything. The
Higher are a strain of humans that evolved
beyond the need for a physical body.
Theyre a collective of pure fain that
oversee Co:pern:ica, and have influence
in other areas of the universe as well.
Sometimes they simply call themselves
The Fain. They taught me a lot of
interesting things, mainly to prepare me
for the confrontation with Aunt Gwyneth.
Why did they put us in the cold like

that?
They imprinted the Icelands of the
North around us so that I could appear in a
more favourable environment.
You or that bear thing?
Me and the bear thing are one and
the same. If its any consolation, I dont
fully understand it either. When I asked the
Higher to explain it to me all they said
was, The bears are a story waiting to be
written. Maybe Dad will shed some light
on it. Hes itching to tell me something.
He was holding back downstairs, because
of Penny. Ill find out later. Right now,
Im going to take a look around. Let me
know if Aurielle comes back or
Strmberg turns up.
She looked him up and down and
nodded. David?

Yeah?
Can that dragon claw do anything
about this? She swept a hand across the
jumble of books.
Ill think about it, he said. And right
there and then, he did. As his positive
intent poured into the claw, an idea
immediately came to him. He glanced
through the window at the boats dotted on
the water and said, Dont touch the
books. Leave them where they are. They
dont need to be in order any more.
Why, what are we going to do with
them?
Ill tell you later.
David, youre being annoying. Tell me
now.
He backed away. Uh-uh. Not until Ive
thought it through. Get the firebirds

together. As many as you can.

Firebirds? Why?
Its what Mr Henry would have
wanted, he said. And he walked out of
the room, whistling a tune much as the
old curator would have done.

3
Later that day, on his way to the
rendezvous hed planned with his father,
David had a surprise encounter with
Angel. He had spent most of the afternoon
checking the animals, eventually going
right to the top of the ark where the air
was cool and the horizons were large and
the Higher were easy to commingle with.
On the way back down, he found himself
being taken through the glade that had once
been Floor 108 of the librarium. And
there, beneath the canopy of a beautiful
old tree, he saw her.
She was sitting on one of the exposed
and mossy roots, quietly reading a book.
Hello, Angel, he said.

She looked up and smiled. A miniature

Rosa in a plain white dress. Have you
come to read to me, Daddy?
If youd like me to, he said. What
book is it?
Yours, silly.
Mine? he said.
She nodded freely. One day, youll
remember. She held it out for him to take,
the daisy chain prominent on her wrist.
Snigger and the Nutbeast?
Youre the nutbeast, she laughed.
And who is Snigger?
Angel thought for a moment, then
snapped her fingers. A confused grey
squirrel appeared at her feet. It saw
David, did a double take, sat up on its
fluffy tail and smiled.
David opened the book and read the

first line. It was a beautiful autumn

morning in the library gardens
From the trees, several red leaves fell.
Yes, said Angel, paddling her feet.
Chuk! went Snigger.
Library. Not librarium. David thought.
The same, but different, Angel
commingled. Read some more, Daddy.
David blinked and his thumb slipped
off the first page. He prised the book open
at a dedication. For Lucy Pennykettle
(aged 11 today). Lucy? he muttered. He
felt the dragon claw buzzing against his
heart as the name began to resonate with
him.
Angel pointed down the clearing.
Among the falling leaves, a floating image
of part of the Tapestry of Isenfier
appeared. It was Penny, kneeling down.

The same, but different, David thought.

Angel smiled. Sniggers got something
for you, she said.
The squirrel was digging frantically in
the dirt, uncovering what appeared to be a
small piece of bone. Angel jumped off the
tree root, picked up the bone and handed it
to David in exchange for the book. He
cleaned it against the edge of his jacket
and looked at the now-familiar markings.
Sometimes, he said.
Angel put out her wings. Sometimes it
will be Lucy, she said.
And sometimes it will be Penny, David
thought. When is it Gadzooks? he asked.
Snigger leaped off the ground and
dissolved with a spray of stars into the
book.
When the bears come, she said, with

a glint in her eye. I have to go now,

Daddy.
Angel, thank you for this. He held up
the bone. What does it do?
That will help you find Zookie, she
said. But only when youre ready to see
him.
And in a flash of light she was gone.
A few minits later, David swept into Aunt
Gwyneths room. It was not quite dusk,
but his father was already there. Any
change? he asked, peering at the body.
None, as far as I can tell, Harlan
said.
David sent a quick rrrh to the firebirds.
One of them reported no activity, the other
just jolted itself out of sleep.
Are you OK? Harlan asked. You

look dreadfully puzzled.

Its nothing, David said. Where are
the others?
Mathew has set off on a tour with
Penny, to map the arks layout and log as
many species as they can. Shes found a
delightful book, a guide to animals great
and small. Ive no idea where it came
from, but shes thrilled with it and its
given her a much greater interest in the
boat. Bernard is hobbling about on the
middle decks somewhere observing the
movements of some small buzzing
creatures Eliza calls bees. He
developed a fascination for them after one
landed on his collar while we were
eating. A small swarm went past while he
was cleaning his dish and that was it, he
was away. Eliza is relaxing at the prow of

the boat, reading I think. I havent seen

Rosa, but then Ive been asleep for a
while.
Hows your eye?
Improved, thank you.
Good. What is it you want to tell me?
Harlan slipped his hands into his
pockets. During the day, all the men of
Alavon had changed out of their robes into
more conventional clothing. For Harlan,
this meant a pair of casual trousers and a
white collarless shirt. The look, though
relaxed and informal, appeared to have
done little to stabilise his nerves. Im
still concerned about our corpse. On the
boat, Mathew heard her say that her body
was broken but not her will. She knew
exactly what she was doing when she
wrote that message. She aims to survive.

The last time we saw the claw before she

got it, it had been stolen by a firebird
possessed of an alien force called the Ix.
Eliza told me how you dealt with that
danger. That must have been quite
impressive. He smiled wistfully, then
turned away as if he was pacing the front
of a lecture theatre. The point is, when I
wrote with the claw the effect was
immediate. It brought the Ix firebird
straight to me. So why isnt something
happening with her?
David drew up a chair, and sat astride
it with his arms resting on the back. The
wisdom from the Higher suggests that
Aunt Gwyneths auma has been
successfully reassimilated into the dark
energy of the universe, where it should
have no ill effect though they still

recommend we observe her, for reasons

Ill come to in a moment.
Everything youve said about the claw
is correct. It is a relic from Agawins
time, torn from the foot of one of the most
potent dragons known to the Higher, the
creature you called Gawain. Strictly
speaking, anyone can wield it, but the
greater the individuals resonance with
dragons, the more dramatic the outcome
will be. Its capable of complex acts of
creation.
Like the ark?
Exactly.
Can it be used to manipulate negative
intent?
Yes and no. Because dragons were
essentially spiritual creatures Gawain,
in particular, was highly revered the

claw would react against any form of

direct malice. This is how Aunt Gwyneth
was defeated. She was attempting to
destroy a sensory matrix called the Is,
which the Higher control. The claw
rejected her harmful intent. Thats how
she ended up in the water. But the message
she wrote in the boat is different. Any
malevolence there was hidden in
ambiguity. The claw would respond to a
positive plea for life.
But it hasnt, Harlan said, looking her
way. The Aunts eyes were wrinkled but
firmly shut. Perhaps her fain was so
weak as her life began to slip that she
wasnt able to realise her intent?
Perhaps, said David. But theres
another, more worrying, possibility.
The Higher were keen to impress on

me just how the claw works. Im pretty

sure Agawin knew when he sealed the
claw away. He learned the truth about
dragons. He knew their origins, their
whereabouts and their gifts of prediction.
But the part that would fascinate the
phys:icist in you is their link to time,
consciousness and matter. The claw
draws upon the energy of universal flux
and the principle of describing order from
chaos. If that was applied over a time
nexus, such as the one you tried to link to
in your lab
Its effects might be delayed, Harlan
muttered. He turned away, feeling the
dressing at his eye. This wasnt what hed
wanted to hear. So she could keep us
guessing for another twenty spins and still
give us a nasty surprise one day.

Thats about the size of it.

So what do you plan to do?
Hand her to Strmberg and leave it to
him. We have the claw now. We can be
ready for her if she turns up again.
Harlan walked to the window and
opened the shutters. Darkness had fallen
and the water was calm. The many
hundreds of boats that now accompanied
the ark could only be identified by the
coloured lights strung from their tipping
masts. The heavy rain had given way to a
sturdy breeze, which swept in to refresh
the atmosphere in the room. One of the
firebirds gave a grateful rrrh and looked
pleased to have some air running through
its feathers. Harlan drummed his fingertips
against the shutters. Theres something
else you have to hear. Does the term

Isenfier mean anything to you?

Not wishing to mention the tapestry yet,
David just said, In a reference book Mr
Henry used to have, Isenfier is mentioned
as the site of a battle. How did you learn
of it?
In the Dead Lands I had a vision of
Gawain. I was warned about a Shadow,
which I took to be the Ix. When the black
firebird came, I commingled with the
Cluster that had got into its mind. The Ix
were following a signal from Isenfier,
hoping to track you down and kill you.
When I asked the Ix why you were being
targeted, they identified you as some kind
of champion or saviour. With you gone, it
was clear they thought they could win the
battle or that the battle could continue. I
wasnt sure.

What was sending the signal? David

asked. His tone was noticeably quieter
now.
His father turned to look at him. A
dragon. A peculiar little thing. It held a
pen or possibly another claw. The Ix
had a name for it. Creat:or, I think. He
paused a moment. You know of this,
dont you?
David pushed himself upright and came
to the window. Ive seen an image of the
dragon youre talking about. And he told
his father then about Agawins tapestry,
and how it described the battle of Isenfier,
apparently suspended in time. For the
moment, to preserve the calm, he said
nothing about Pennys presence on it or
Mathews, for that matter.
Where is the tapestry? Can I see it?

Harlan asked. Even with one eye

frowning, he looked every bit the devoted
scientist.
David shook his head. It disappeared
during the change. Two of our firebirds
are searching for it. I dont want to upset
Mum with this, so it would be best if you
kept it to yourself for now.
Can you draw it? Or imagineer
something from memory?
I can try.
Good, said Harlan. Do what you
can. If this really is Agawins creation,
we must show Mathew and Bernard at
least.
David nodded in agreement. Id like
Counsellor Strmberg to see it as well.
Can we wait till he arrives?
Yes.

Just then, the faint clang of a bell

reached their ears. Both men instinctively
looked up. And though there was no real
change to the scene, another bell was
struck slightly nearer the first, then another
and another. Until the ocean was ringing
with sound. And closer to the ark, voices
were shouting. And they were all saying
one thing only.
Land.

4
Leaving orders with the firebirds to come
to him at once if there was any change in
Aunt Gwyneths condition, David and his
father headed for the nearest deck. Along
the way, David picked up an eyeglass. As
soon as he was out in the cool night air he
trained it forward. Far beyond the leading
line of boats (scores of them had now got
in front of the ark), he thought he could see
a faint wave of light. In the darkness, at
this distance, it was impossible to confirm
that it was land-based, but there was little
reason to doubt the message chain. Within
the hour they would know for certain. By
morning, they would see the land clearly.
Before he closed the eyeglass up,

David swivelled it towards another light

at the very prow of the vessel. There was
Rosa, sitting astride a glowing
Terrafonne. Her hair was being pulled
back by the wind, accentuating the
delicate curve of her jaw and her long,
slender neck. She looked stunning.
Anything? asked Harlan, cupping his
eyes (to no effect).
David took the glass away. Too far to
tell. He sat down on the deck with his
back against a cabin wall. Dad, can I ask
you something now?
Anything.
How did you escape from the Dead
Lands?
Harlan sat down a little more slowly
and a little less comfortably. There was a
gnawing pain across the centre of his back

and a chafing scanner burn above his left

knee that even Eliza had not seen yet. It
wasnt pretty, he said as he stretched out
his legs. But your sisters heard it and so
should you.
You told Penny?
Only the bones, Harlan chuckled. If
youd been around at dinner you would
have heard Mathew pepping her up. He
managed to describe to her, in exciting
detail, how we lit a huge fire to lure the
Re:movers and steal their transport.
Is that true?
In essence, yes. We set the blaze in a
ruined tower on top of a hill called the
Isle of Alavon. It must have been seen
across half of Co:pern:ica. We also
arranged torches in the shape of a letter
A on the wetland where the Re:movers

make their drops, to get them precisely

where we wanted them. The marshes in
that region are perilous. In daylight,
because of the abundance of grasses and
the fact that the water is so shallow and
still, the land appears flat and walkable.
But the entire morass is a giant pit of
unfaithful ground and evil trenches. One
false step and youre sucked into slime,
where all you can look forward to is slow
suffocation. Its quite horrifying.
We trained on the marsh for three or
four days, flagging up pathways and
running them constantly, especially at
night or when rain was in the air, until we
were confident we knew the topography
and could change direction at will and
survive. We dug makeshift hides in the
driest ground so we could launch

simultaneous attacks from several

directions. In those final few days we ate
communally, so we could talk through the
problems and dangers and fears. When
the chosen night came, we shook hands
and wished each other brave fortune. Then
we lit the beacon and waited. Twenty-one
men. Armed with nothing but sticks, stones
and grim determination. And it worked
if anything, a little too well.
We had made preparations for two
Re:movers in one vehicle. In the end,
three came in two. Craft very similar to
penal taxicars, but sleeker models, refitted
for combat. Fearing we were out of our
depth, I wanted to abandon the attack. I
formed an idea to explain to the machines
that we had lit the fire in praise of
Agawin. There would have been

reprimands, some splitting up of the tribe,

perhaps, but they probably wouldnt have
punished us too harshly. But before I
could get the message out, a stone flew
through the air and struck the first car,
leaving one of its windows shattered.
After that, we had no choice but to fight.
The first manoeuvre went much as
wed planned it. Mathew leaped up,
hurled another stone at the second taxicar,
shouted some abuse and took off across
the marsh. Two Re:movers immediately
went after him. We knew they would have
some basic capability for adapting to the
poor conditions, but we were gambling on
the fact that the marsh is unpredictable.
Sure enough, one of them ploughed
straight in and went down to knee level
while it was opening fire. In our hides, we

tightened our fists in triumph. But our

elation was short-lived. From that moment
on our plan was exposed. While the
sinking machine struggled, the other
opened its wrist :com and asked the
taxicar for assistance. We knew their
databases were bound to be inadequate
because there are no comparable
conditions in Central. But those things
learn fast. There was a beep and the
standing machine swept another device
across the marsh. I realised it was some
kind of densito:meter, highlighting areas
of solid ground. It took it less than ten secs
to work out a route to Mathew.
It went straight for him, covering the
terrain at remarkable speed. Meanwhile,
the sinking one had applied a kind of
anti:grav to its body and was beginning to

overcome the suck of the marsh. Bernard

said into my ear, We need the weights.
We had roped together lines of stones,
each just heavy enough for a man to carry.
The idea was to loop them around the
Re:movers at close range, hopefully to
pull them down. I gave the order and eight
of us ran forward. We came at it from
behind in two groups, not expecting a
great deal of resistance. But we were in
for a serious shock. None of us knew that
the machines can dislocate their joints.
The Re:mover unhinged its knees,
swivelled a few degrees and opened fire.
Our leading attacker, a huge hulk of a man
with wild curly hair, was cut down in a
moment. He fell heavily to the marsh,
creating a dense spray of mud and water.
Bernard stumbled into him and only

survived the next blast because he tripped

and fell, injuring his ankle. The flash that
was intended for Bernard struck the man
behind him, searing his robe and the length
of his arm. He cried out in agony and
staggered sideways, losing his footing. He
fell, face down into the marsh. There was
no hope for him. Two dead and one
crippled. And we were still some fifteen
paces from our target.
But we had the darkness and a medic
called Terance Humbey, who knew the
best ground and had the speed to cross it.
As the rest of us threw ourselves flat,
Terance got around the side of the thing,
swung his rope in both hands and landed a
powerful blow to the side of the
Re:movers head. I saw the head tilt as it
wrenched from the shoulder. A bunch of

wires sprang out. The Re:mover jerked

and began to fire at random, lighting up the
night with its scanner flares. Terance
swung again, catching it another powerful
blow. This time there was a crackle. The
smell of burning circuitry. By then I was
on my feet and hoping to get my rope
around the thing. As I closed in, the
scanner flare that dazzled my eye went off
and I lost my aim. The rope flew over the
Re:movers shoulder, but one of the
smaller stones lodged in the damage
Terance had caused. The rope was left
dangling down the Re:movers back. It
wasnt weight enough, but it was working.
The machine had gone in to thigh level.
It took another two ropes before it
went under. We lost one more man and
another was scalded from his hip to his

heart before we dealt the blow that took

out the scanner. Terance helped the
machine on its way with another heavy
swing, and the three of us still able to fight
myself, Terance and a man called Hugo
Abbot turned our attention to Mathew
and the other groups hiding on the marsh.
Harlan paused here and massaged the
skin of his temples. Forgive me. This
next part is very difficult. I may stumble
over the words.
Take as much time as you need, said
David. Youre doing just fine.
Harlan nodded and removed his
bandage, holding it as if it was a
cherished souvenir. Around the socket of
his eye, dark scanner burns were clearly
visible. In his own words, not pretty. By
now, the second taxicar had taken off to go

to the assistance of the Re:mover on the

marsh. I was watching its flight when I
heard Bernard yelling out an urgent
warning. I turned and saw an arm rising
out of the mud. The Re:mover had a
circular device in its hand. I knew straight
away it was a bomb and I was doomed.
But before I could even close my eyes,
Hugo had pushed me aside and thrown
himself over the hand. This brave, peaceloving, elderly man moved me as if I was
his only child and sent himself to a certain
death. The weight of his body carried the
hand down just far enough to deaden the
explosion in the mire. But I can feel it now
just as much as I felt it then. A mans life,
shuddering away inside me. A scar far
worse than anything visible on my skin.
And the other men? David prompted

gently.
Somewhere behind them an animal gave
out a plaintive cry. A slender creature
called a ferret sniffed at Davids feet,
slipped under his knees and continued on
its way.
Harlan looked up at the stars. The
Re:mover chasing Mat was avoiding the
wet areas with ease. But what its scan had
failed to tell it was that some solid areas
were not reliable. So when it tried to
cross a bridge that we had built of light
wood and marsh mud, it went in and its
momentum took it under easily. That one
didnt respond. But by now we had a
greater threat to deal with the taxicar. It
was equipped with a laser head. Its infrared detectors picked up any signs of body
heat and the lasers did the rest. I hope I

never live to see another man fatally shot

by a weapon like that. The body blanches
before it disintegrates. I cant begin to tell
you what its like to see the victims
horror frozen in mono:chrome on their
face before they die.
How did you defeat it?
I stole the other car. Id driven them
manually in the days when you still could.
It was equipped with a laser as well. I
simply blasted the first car out of the sky.
Nothing so destructive has ever filled me
with such satisfaction.
So we had our victory and we had our
ride home. It took some time to work out
the navigational aids because the routers
for the cars are implanted into the
Re:movers heads. But eventually we
were able to set a course for Bushley. By

then the flood had started and we could

see the ark on all our displays. I knew it
had to be connected with you. On the
approach we began to lose grav. So I
ditched the taxicar onto the water and we
pooled our auma to make two boats from
it. Myself, Bernard and Mathew took one.
Terance skippered the other. And that was
that. The next thing we knew we were
trying to save the life of that evil witch,
Gwyneth. Of all the boats she could have
landed beside, it had to be ours.
David raised his head and looked into
the night. I think youll find that wasnt a
coincidence.
His father threw him a quizzical glance.
It was a test to see if youd show her
mercy.
Test? Who could set a test like that?

She could.
Angel suddenly appeared before them.
Wings spread, she glided into view and
landed softly on the deck beside David.
Harlan stared at the girl in awe. It was
the first time hed seen the mysterious
flying child that Penny had not stopped
talking about. She walked up and studied
the burns to his eye. He held his breath as
she reached out a hand and placed it over
his thumping heart. Her blue eyes
sparkled. Hugo is very happy, she said.
And for the first time in his life, Harlan
Merriman unleashed his emotions and
cried. And as the tears rolled out of his
damaged eye, so it healed and he could
see clearly once more.
I thought you had to go? David said to
Angel.

I did, she said, brightly. But I came

back again, because were almost here.
Here? said Harlan, looking for a
landmark. Where are we heading?
Angel pointed to a light in the distance.
David stood up and went to the rail.
Further along the deck, several animals
had come out to stare across the water just
as David was doing now. If ever were
separated, I want you to pass on a
message for me, Dad. When people talk
about this flood, they will say that its
come to destroy us. It hasnt. Its here to
make us think about a better way of life.
One in which we can still imagineer, but
where our ability to do so is balanced by
our willingness to care for the creatures
on this ark. This is the new directive from
the Higher. Wherever these animals

choose to land, wherever they migrate to,

wherever they settle, the humans will
respect them and their habitats, or lose
their power to create form from thought.
And it all begins here in what used to be
called the Dead Lands.
Harlan got to his feet and squinted at the
light. Is that? No, it cant be. It must
have gone out by now.
David put an arm around Angels
shoulder. There may be dark days ahead
of us. More conflict with the Ix. Maybe a
twist or two with the Aunts. But the only
thing that matters for now is that beacon.
This is the legacy your tribe left behind.
Welcome back to Alavon, where the fire
of Agawin will never die out

5
By morning, the ark had drifted alongside
the southern edge of Alavon and found
waters deep enough in which to anchor. In
keeping with its programme of selfsufficiency, a sturdy wooden drawbridge
swung out from the central section of the
hull and dropped down to make firm
contact with the land. The great whump!
brought scores of animals to the windows
and all the humans, bar Rosa, to the decks.
David, giving orders to monitor the
animals but not impede them in any way,
hurried down to check it out. He arrived at
the opening to find Rosa on the
drawbridge sitting astride Terrafonne. A
little posse of animals had already stacked

up in the hold behind her. Whats this

place? she asked.
The Isle of Alavon.
Isnt that where?
Dad was taken to, yes. See the
beacon?
Its kind of hard not to. Even in
daylight the flames were inspiring.
Strange to think Agawin lived there
once.
Rosa gulped and steadied Terrafonnes
head. The unicorn, his hooves clipclopping on the bridge, seemed anxious to
explore the land. She looked back over
her shoulder at the hold. The animals are
restless. Are they allowed off to
exercise?
Those that need to leave at this point,
will.

Leave?
Its part of their programme of
survival to return to the land, where they
can thrive.
Thats the Dead Lands theyre going
to. Theres nothing out there.
David squinted at Alavons kind, green
slopes. Theyll have water. And lots of
willing hands on the boats. The followers
are looking to the ark for guidance. It just
needs someone to show them the way. He
reached out and stroked the unicorns
neck.
Me? Rosa said, pointing to herself.
All I want to do is mark this occasion
with an image the people in the boats
wont forget. We both know Terrafonne is
quite a performer.
Rosa guided the white horse further

onto the bridge and looked around at the

bobbing boats. Nearly all had a lens
trained on the ark. You could always
waddle ashore in your ice bear form and
show them some flakes of What was it
you called that white stuff?
Snow.
That would be pretty.
It would, but it wouldnt be right. Its
not time for Co:pern:ica to learn about ice
or the bears just yet. And, he stressed,
before she could follow up the point, this
will launch my idea about the books.
Go on, she said, Im all ears.
How many firebirds were you able to
call?
A few. She pointed to the upper
decks. Several hundred were perched on
the rails.

Perfect.
For what?
He looked into her spirited eyes and
smiled. Despite the air of indifference, he
knew she was curious. He raked his
fingers through Terrafonnes mane and
said, Do you remember how Mr Henry
used to tell us that books were our true
and most dedicated friends? How one
well-written passage of words could not
only melt the heart of a reader but stay
with them forever?
Of course I do, she said. Her gaze
began to soften as her eyes grew moist.
I think if the circumstances were right
Mr Henry would have liked everyone on
Co:pern:ica to experience that feeling. We
could start it, Rosa. Here. On the waters
of Alavon. Today.

Start what? she said. I dont

understand.
Start sharing the books.
Sharing them? How?
We ask the firebirds to pick them up
and fly them to the boats
David, dont be dumb. Wed lose them
all.
Not as gifts, as loans, he said, to
be read and brought back and freely
exchanged for others. In that way, the
books belong to the librarium and to the
people. The really sweet part is this: as
the people return them, youll be able to
put them in order and keep them in order
until theyre ready to go out again.
Me? she said. What are you going to
do?
David smiled and thought about the

claw in his pocket. Im going to write

new books, he said.
Over the next few days, a steady stream of
animals disembarked as David had
predicted and began to meander across the
land. There was no selection process.
Those which chose to go simply stepped
onto the bridge or flew across the water
or swam, if they were already in the
water, away from the vessel. None,
Harlan noticed, climbed the hill where the
tower stood and the beacon still burned.
But it gave him an enormous sense of
pleasure to watch two animals that Penny
described as cows grazing on one of the
bright green fields.
Many boats, by now, had moored
themselves at imagineered jetties or been

driven aground by the lapping tide. And

thanks to Rosa, who had ridden
Terrafonne ashore in a spectacular leap
full of rainbows and stars, people were
testing the land as well, following her to
Alavon in small parties. By the afternoon
of the third day, the first simple dwelling
place had sprouted from the minds of
those able to imagine a life among the
crops theyd found. For Mathew Lefarr,
this was difficult to watch. The more he
saw of the infant colony, the more he knew
he ought to be a part of it. And so, at a
carefully-selected moment, he approached
his fellow travellers and made an
announcement, Friends, I will be leaving
you here.
Oh, Mathew? said Eliza.
What? said Penny, who looked as if a

limb had been torn from her body.

Even Rosa cast her eyes down.
He raised a hand before anyone else
could speak. Im going to go ashore.
Much of my time in the Dead Lands was
invested in making the Isle of Alavon a
comfortable place to live. This water,
these animals, are a new and exciting
development. It casts no reflection on any
of you when I say I want to be part of that.
There is probably about a minit before the
ark moves on and one of you tries to
change my mind. So I will wish you all
safe travels and slip away before the
drawbridge lifts. Come and find me when
your journey is done. Wherever I make my
home, any of you will be welcome in it.
Penny rushed forward and clamped her
arms around him.

Be a good friend to the animals, he

whispered. One day, Ill breed you a
goat. (Out of all the many animals theyd
logged together, the goats were her
favourite.) He planted a kiss on the top of
her head before moving her into Elizas
care. He shook hands firmly with Harlan
and Bernard, both of whom were swift to
pledge their allegiance to any just cause
he might fight for again. He turned next to
Rosa. Poor Rosa, she had no idea what to
do. She liked Mathew, though she had
made a deep secret of it. She admired his
honesty and hard work and plain-speaking
ways. True, she had hardly said a kind
word to him, but that was because his
good looks unnerved her. She stepped
forward and offered her hand (from a
distance). He picked it up and kissed it.

She almost melted.

And lastly there was David. No doubt
everyone present expected a brief, if wellmeant, thank you from the son of Harlan
Merriman before he all but imagineered
Mathew to a distant place. Instead, David
asked Lefarr to stay. This might have been
taken as a gesture of friendship were it not
for the slight cut of authority in his voice.
When challenged, David would only say
that the ark had gathered Mathew in and a
greater purpose awaited him. Harlan, well
aware of Mathews disappointment and
Davids abruptness (and the creak of the
closing drawbridge), drew his son aside
and quietly asked him to reconsider. The
argument was weak, he said. Mathew had
an independent, pioneering spirit. It was
poignant that he should desire to have a

foothold in the reborn farmlands of

Alavon. There was no better place for him
to form a new tribe. Also, on a more
personal level, surely David had noticed
the way Mathew admired Rosa? Granted,
he had made no move on the girl for he
clearly saw her fondness for David. But it
was a possible source of tension all the
same. Mathew was young, intelligent and
not exactly unhandsome. Even Penny, of
all people, had remarked as much.
David accepted this advice, which he
knew was well-intended, but then
revealed to his father the real reason he
had asked Lefarr to stay. He described the
missing detail from the Tapestry of
Isenfier. Mathew, he said, was the man
seen standing in the corner with Penny.
Harlan turned away, angry that this had

been kept from him. Penny? he hissed.

Shes part of the battle?
Yes, David said.
Harlan closed ranks again. Have you
found the tapestry?
No, not yet.
Have you completed the drawing?
No, not quite.
When its done, promise me youll
show me it, David.
Yes, David said. Yes, I promise.
And Harlan gritted his teeth and walked
away.
And so Mathew, along with the Merriman
family, and Bernard Brotherton, and the
beautiful Rosa, stayed with the ark as it
journeyed round Co:pern:ica, shedding its
animals. Mathew, to his credit (and

Rosas further admiration), did not

question Davids decision but simply
accepted that his future, for now, was tied
up with this journey. He helped out where
he could even cooked sometimes and
played games with Penny (who clearly
adored him) and chatted with Eliza while
she continued to explore her creative gifts,
and aided Bernard in his quest to harvest
the sticky-sweet foodstuff his bees were
producing, and spoke of universal
mysteries as he walked the decks with
Harlan, and even monitored the stationary
Aunt Gwyneth now and then.
And sometimes, when a chance
presented itself, he would find himself in
a room of books, working on the scheme
that David had suggested. All this time,
under Rosas instruction, the firebirds had

been faithfully distributing the books and

had now reached the stage of bringing
some back when they returned from a
drop. Sometimes notes would accompany
them.
Thank you, this story has enriched my
life.
Do you have anything on weather?
Is it possible to come aboard and
browse?
One afternoon, Rosa was cataloguing a
number of returns when Mathew suddenly
burst out laughing.
What? she said. He was across the
room, reading a note.
Youve received a proposal. Someone
wants to marry you.
What? Dont be silly.
Honestly, its real. He came a little

closer and showed it to her. In a striking

hand it said, To the pretty book girl. Will
you marry me? Youve been spotted in
someones eyeglass, he said.
She cocked her head and thrust the note
into his chest. Very funny.
What? he laughed. You dont think I
wrote it?
She looped her hair behind her ears and
went back to her work.
For a moment there was silence. Then
the floor echoed several times to his
footsteps and he went to stand by a
window, looking out. If I had written it,
what would be your answer?
She put down her book. Matthew
Im serious. When I go back to
Alavon, you could come with me.
And break Pennys heart? she said, to

keep it light.
Id look after you, he said. I could
build us a home.
She swallowed hard and nodded. She
knew this. She did. Sometimes when she
looked out on the land, she thought of it.
It wouldnt be the same.
As the ark? he said. We could have
books there.
She raised her head and looked at him,
her eyes were glazed with tears. I know,
she said, but we couldnt have David.
He accepted this with the quiet grace
she expected of him. And had they not
been separated by an awkward
arrangement of chairs and books and the
corner of a table, she might even have run
to him with a hug of consolation. As it
happened, he did become suddenly very

animated. He backed away from the

window and set off for the door.
Whats the matter? Rosa said.
Theres a stranger coming up the
bridge.
He was gone before she could reach the
window. And that space was quickly
filled by a firebird, anyway. Runcey!
she gasped. (In times of excitement, this
was always his name.)
The emerald green bird sat up brightly.
Rrrh! he said to her. Strmberg is
here.

6
Thorren Strmberg joined the ark when
the last of the animals (two goofy looking
creatures with huge tails and enormous
silly feet), had just walked (or rather
bounced) onto the parched yellow soil at a
landmass called Ozralia. Mathew
challenged him on the bridge. Throughout
their journey, no one had attempted to
board the ark or even formally
communicate with it. Yet here came this
tall, wild-haired man striding up the
walkway as if he owned the whole thing.
Mathew, its all right, let him on.
David patted the young mans shoulder as
he stepped past to greet their visitor.
Strmberg opened his arms and

welcomed David with a hug befitting a

bear. He looked up at the enormous vessel
and said, Now I see what your dreams
were truly made of. And together they
strolled aboard.
Whether it was due to his counselling
skills or his general charismatic
demeanour, Strmberg quickly became a
unifying presence. David took him first to
see Aunt Gwyneth. The dead Aunt, still
attended by the guarding firebirds, was, as
expected, unchanged. David told the full
story of their conflict, including her
attempt to attack the Is and her ambiguous
parting message. Strmberg took it in but
made no comment. He approved of what
had been done, he said, and would make
arrangements for the disposal of the body.
The casket could now be closed.

After a short tour of the boat, chairs

were arranged on a shaded lower deck
and everyone gathered to hear what news
the counsellor had. Harlan was keen to
know what the people of Co:pern:ica
were making of the ark.
They see it as a miracle, Strmberg
said.
Whats a miracle? asked Penny.
An old word for a spectacular
phenomenon, said Bernard. A bee was
crawling on his nearly bald head. That
was the kind of phenomenon Penny liked.
Mathew put a glass of water on the
deck. He had made his peace very quickly
with Strmberg and was stoically showing
no emotion towards Rosa. Is there panic
in the community? Disorder? Chaos?
Far from it, the counsellor replied.

He sat back in his chair and crossed his

long legs. The ark is being seen as a gift
from the Higher, a gesture of extreme
benevolence. Theres a genuine sense of
excitement in the air. People may have
lost their homes and their routines and
some of their ability to imagineer but
their minds are opening up to fresh
possibilities.
Eliza leaned forward and said,
Thorren, did anyone die in the flood?
Ive heard of no reported cases, he
said. That, of course, just adds to the
wonder.
And the Aunts? asked Harlan, pacing
around with his hands in his pockets.
Restructuring for the better, I might
add. Just before the librarium transformed,
I circulated the rumour of wrongdoing

there and named Gwyneth and her

followers as the perpetrators. The story
was still growing when the waters came
and the ark appeared. The timing could not
have been better. People initially saw the
boat as an angry response from the Higher.
At that point they really did fear for their
lives. Since then, as Ive said, their
perception has changed and the quiet
revolution weve all been hoping for has
begun to happen. A young Aunt named
Agetha quickly came to prominence and
introduced a number of altruistic changes.
Thanks to her, confidence in the Aunt
network is slowly being restored.
David, said Harlan, coming to sit. I
think its time you told Thorren, and the
others, about the tapestry.
Tapestry? said Eliza.

David let his eyes come to rest on his

mother, who realised immediately what
was wanted of her. Penny, lets go for a
walk, she said.
Now? said the girl.
I could do with some air.
Were in the air!
Now, Penny.
The girl stood up, pouting furiously.
Youre going to talk aboutsecret stuff,
arent you? She frowned harshly at her
brother who said, Ill come and read to
you later.
But even that sweet promise couldnt
lighten Pennys mood. Slamming a hand
against the midriff of a bemused Mathew,
she stomped away ahead of her mother.
David imagineered a low table and
asked the others to gather round. He

unrolled a piece of paper and pinned it at

both ends by imagineered weights. On it
was a detailed drawing of the Tapestry of
Isenfier. Rosa folded her arms and felt her
mouth grow dry. All of a sudden, Ozralia
felt awfully chilly.
This is a reproduction, David said,
drawn from memory, of a tapestry Rosa
and I found on Floor 108 of the old
librarium. Generations of firebirds have
protected the original. Ironically, I cant
show it to you because we cant find it,
but I think I can tell you what it means and
who the people are. He pointed them out.
Me, Rosa, Mathew
Me? said Lefarr. He sat up, looking
shocked.
David nodded. Yes, with a teenage
Penny. The kneeling child is Angel.

Whats shes holding? Bernard

asked.
A small dragon, David said.
This is a battle scene, Strmberg
muttered, carefully running his gaze over
it.
Its called Isenfier, Harlan said,
sounding grim. And its happening or
rather not happening somewhere in time,
on another world.
On the opposite side of your rift, I
imagine? Strmberg raised his eyes
towards David.
David nodded. Aunt Gwyneth called it
Earth.
Not happening? Bernard repeated.
You mean theres an inter:rupt in the
continuum?
Harlan said, David, show Thorren the

claw.
David pulled it from his pocket. The
dragon in the tapestry is holding this or
something equally as powerful. Its
writing an ancient symbol, capable of
suspending the time point.
But how are we involved? Mathew
said. I mean, were here, not there.
Dad? David said. Do you want to
explain?
Harlan blew a short breath. Ill try.
Time, as you know, is a strange concept.
Though it may appear to us that it always
advances in a linear fashion, we cant
really prove it. That feeling of moving
forward may be nothing more than an
intuitive notion. Some theorists even
suggest that what we perceive as the past,
the present and the future are gathered into

one eternal now.

Which
is
constantly-changing,
Bernard chipped in.
Quite, said Harlan. This means there
may be infinite possibilities to the course
of our lives, which supports the idea that
we might exist in alternative realities, on
the same time point. Hence the battle is
happening or not happening. (A confused
Rosa shook her head and walked away.)
Harlan went on, Its important to
understand that the people represented on
the tapestry are not the David, Rosa and
Mathew gathered here, even though they
may look like them, but probable
variations of them. The truly interesting
character, of course, is the dragon.
Mathew opened his hand. I was about
to ask, why isnt there a variation of it

here, on the ark?

Bernard said, Perhaps the claw is the
thing and the dragon is a kind of aid to
understanding?
No, David muttered. Gadzooks
exists.
Strmberg said at this point, Harlan,
given that everything you say is true, why
would this dragon suspend this particular
incident in time?
Theyre in danger, he said. The
people in the tapestry. Theyre being
threatened by a force you saw glimpses of
in Davids dreams. The dragon has used
its own kind of claw to stop the battle at a
crucial moment and throw out a distress
signal over a time nexus. Agawin
somehow had a vision of it and realised
that one day the right David would see

the tapestry and

Ride to the rescue? Rosa said.
All the men turned their faces to her.
How does that happen? she said,
looking worried. How does my David go
there and save them? She gestured
towards the tapestry.
I assume he writes with the claw,
said Harlan.
Or uses the bone, David was thinking,
remembering now what Angel had said
about finding Gadzooks.
I have a question. Mathew sat
forward with his elbows on his knees,
staring at the deck. If its true about
alternative realities and stuff then I have
a problem.
Whats that? asked Harlan.
Gwyneth.

David raised his eyes.

Mathew went on, Maybe the
counsellor can answer something for me:
did she, Gwyneth, ever use another
name?
Strmberg tapped his fingertips
together. Another name?
Gwilanna, for instance?
David noticed Bernard rubbing his chin
in thought.
Strmberg replied, No. When
inducted, an Aunts name is always fixed
to her parents choice. Its part of a strict
verification process.
Mathew tightened his lips and said,
Then why would she use the claw to
write another?
Oh, oh my goodness, Bernard said
suddenly. She must know herself in the

other world.
How? said Rosa, from the far side of
the deck.
She could have learned of it from the
Ix, Harlan muttered.
So where does that leave us? Mathew
asked.
The sound of wingbeats made everyone
look up. Aurielle and Azkiar, in their
firebird form, were descending from the
upper decks. They were flying side by
side, carrying a rolled-up cloth between
them.
The tapestry, Rosa said. Theyve
found the tapestry. She pushed away from
the rail and hurried to their landing site
further up the deck, where there was room
to roll the cloth out. As David and the
others ran to join her she was already

deep in conversation with Aurielle.

Rosa turned to David and said, They
found it in the glade.
The glade? But why now? They must
have searched there lots of times?
Angel told them to look again. It was
there, in the leaves. Rolled up, like this.
Unroll it, David said to Aurielle in
dragontongue.
The two firebirds pushed with their feet
until the picture was laid out fully on the
deck. Aurielle sat at one end and Azkiar at
the other.
Mathew Lefarr was the first to
comment. He looked at the tapestry, then
at David. Thats not the same picture you
drew, is it?
Rosa shook her head. This is wrong.
Whats happened? Were in different

places. What are those flying things? And

whos that boy?
This is Gwyneths doing, Harlan
breathed. Shes given herself up to the
nexus and realigned the time line. If she
died on Earth where she was known as
Gwilanna the events on the original
tapestry were true, but if she continues to
live
It all changes, David said.
Suddenly there was a bump, followed
by an elongated grinding noise as if the
keel of the ark had ploughed into several
acres of mud. Both firebirds took off and
Rosa rushed to the deck rail again.
David! she screamed. The water! Look
at the water!
At the same time Harlan Merriman was
shouting, The bird. David, shes caught.

Aurielle was flapping wildly, trying to

release a thread of the tapestry caught in
her claw. But the harder she tried, the
harder she pulled. And with every fresh
pull, the image was changing. David was
being drawn into the Shadow of Ix. And a
new figure on the hill, who he knew must
be Gwilanna, had her hand twitched
forward and her face slightly pinched as if
she was smiling and waving goodbye.
And all around the ark an orange light
was growing.
And there was no water.
There was only fire.

What do you enjoy most about writing a

book?
The unexpected twists and turns the plot
can take. Stories really do have a life of
their own sometimes.
What do you like least about writing a
book?
When I cant seethe way ahead (i.e.
getting stuck!).
What was your favourite book as a
child?
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien.

Why did you decide to write childrens

books?
It wasnt a conscious choice. Writing
began as a hobby for me a sort of natural
extension of song writing. I tried all sorts
of different genres, mostly adult, at first.
Then one day I decided to write a story
called Snigger and the Nutbeast as a
Christmas present for my wife, Jay. That
got me into the idea of writing for
children, but it was several years before I
pursued childrens fiction seriously. As
fans of mine will know, Snigger
eventually became the basis for The Fire
Within. The rest, as they say, is history.
Where is your favourite place to write?
I have a desk in a bedroom that overlooks
the sea. You cant do much better than

that.

What book do you wish you had

written?
Holes by Louis Sachar.
Who are your heroes?
John Lennon and the scientist, Alan Turin.
Whats your guilty pleasure?
Eating far too many Fruit Gums for my
own good!
Whats your dream film cast for The
Last Dragon Chronicles?
David: Ben Barnes
Zanna: Gemma Arterton or Jemima
Rooper or
Liz Pennykettle: Emma Thompson

(please, someone make the film before

Emma gets too old for the part)
Lucy Pennykettle: Dont know. I get lots
of letters asking to read for the part!
Gwilanna: Helen Mirren
Arthur: Stephen Tompkinson
Anders Bergstrom: Kenneth Branagh
Henry Bacon: Robert Lindsay
Tam Farrell: Colin Farrell
The dragons: Themselves!

Tell us a secret your readers wont

know about you
I once kissed Kate Bush but I bet she
doesnt remember!

David ran a hand through his mop of

brown hair. Dragons. It was certainly
different from his last set of lodgings,
where all you got were spiders and the
occasional mouse. Its perfect, he
said.
When David arrives at Wayward Crescent
he has no idea what lurks inside the
Pennykettle house. Only when hes given
his own special dragon does he begin to
unlock their mysterious secrets, and to
discover the fire within
The first title in Chris dLaceys
bestselling series,
The Last Dragon Chronicles.

So, I would like two thousand words, by

a week on Friday, on the existence or
not of dragons.
David felt the colour drain out of his
face. Youre joking? Thats impossible.
How on earth am I supposed to write
that?
Bergstrom shuffled the papers and said,
May be where on
earth would be better than how
When David Rain is set an essay on
dragons, theres only one thing he knows
for sure he wants to win the research trip
to the Arctic. As David begins to dig
deeper into the past, he finds himself
drawn down a path from which there is no

going back
To the very heart of the legend of
dragons, and the mysterious ancient secret
of the ice fire.

There is a fire star coming, signaling a

time of new beginnings. A time for
dragons to rise again
A research trip to the Arctic and a
contract for a new booklife cant get
much better for David Rain.
As soon as David finds himself in the icy
climes, he starts to write his story of
bears, dragons and the mysterious fire
star.
Soon he realizes his tale is beginning to
mirror real life, and that an old adversary
is on her way to meet him. Can David
thwart her terrible master plan? Or will
his world be destroyed forever?

Five years have passed since David Rain,

now a cult author, disappeared
mysteriously in the Arctic.
Life in Wayward Crescent has settled to
relative normality. But as the weather
grows wild and the ice caps melt, all eyes
turn north, where bears and the souls of
the Inuit dead are combining to produce a
spectacular solution
A solution with its focus on Davids
child, Alexa if the agents of evil dont
reach her first.

With the Earth on the brink of

recolonisation by dragons, David Rain is
sent on an important mission: to seek and
destroy a trace of dark fire, the deadliest
force in the universe.
But with success could come a terrible
price, the sacrifice of a beloved clay
dragon.
How much does the life of one small
dragon count, when the alternative is the
birth of a darkling?

Enter a world of magic and mystery at

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