Rina came to Pyxeas now, and stood over him, evidently disapproving. ‘Then what must we do, in your opinion, Uncle?’

‘Leave here,’ he said simply.

‘What?’

‘Northland cannot be saved. Leave here – now, if you can, next year, if you must. No later.’

For a heartbeat Rina seemed so shocked she could not speak. Then she asked, ‘Who?’

‘All of you! All the family! And take the treasures – the lore of the ancients, the information in the archives. For that is how we will rebuild in the future, by remembering the past.’

‘Leave Etxelur? Leave the Wall? What are you saying? Where should we go?’

‘Anywhere that will take you – as far south as you can.’

‘Gaira?’

‘No – further, further!’

Rina seemed outraged. ‘Our ancient family should abandon Etxelur, after so long, all for a little cold weather?’

‘Not just weather. This is the longwinter, child. And it is returning—’

‘You quote myth at us, Uncle. Do you remember the words of the blessed Ana, when the sea first tried to take the land? We will not run any more. Single-handed she built a mound to defy the sea. We will not run. This is the future! This! That is what she said, and she inspired those who followed her, and Northlanders have not run from that day to this.’

Alxa stared at Pyxeas and her mother, barely comprehending, struggling to believe any of it. ‘And you, Uncle Pyxeas? What will you do?’

‘That’s obvious, isn’t it? My understanding is still incomplete, my compilation of information imperfect. I have to get it all together while there is still time . . .’

‘Where will you go?’

‘Cathay, child. Cathay. Oh, do be careful with that slate, Avatak, you clumsy oaf!’

9

The First Year of the Longwinter: Autumn Equinox

In the end it was a poor summer, and a short one, with the heavy frosts coming even before the autumn equinox.

It had been a summer dominated by the after-effects of the previous winters. Lingering ice masses in the northern lands and in the mountains, though still scattered and separate, reflected away the sun’s heat. Meanwhile more ice tumbled into the northern ocean from growing, unstable glaciers, and bergs marched steadily south. The sudden injection of so much cold, fresh water disrupted the great, warm ocean streams, cooling the land further. All this during the summer months, the warmest.

Now summer was over, for better or worse, and the world’s relentless orbital dance took the northern lands through the autumn equinox. Even as humans around the planet gathered to celebrate this latest moment of astronomical symmetry, the cold closed its grip once more.

10

Kassu was woken by a kick in the ribs, in the dark, in his house.

‘Henti?’ It was cold for an Anatolian autumn night. Under a heap of furs, with his wife beside him, he had been sleeping deeply, and it was taking him time to surface. Had he slept late? Today was the day of the nuntarriyashas, New Hattusa’s equinox festival, and his wife wouldn’t want to be late for that . . .