‘Don’t deny it. She’s been lying to me and you’ve been shielding her. Turning her against her own father.’

‘Sit down, Jerame.’ Jolaine’s manner was no longer that of the eccentric scholar; her voice was stern, even commanding. Surprised, he sat down.

‘If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would take exception to your tone of voice. Bursting in here, making all manner of wild accusations! But as it’s concern for your daughter that’s made you forget your manners, I’ll forgive you. If you hear me out.’

‘Now wait a –’

‘Did you think you could keep her from the music forever? It is as necessary to her as food and drink.’

‘But the Accidie,’ Jerame said in a whisper. ‘You know it will kill her, as surely as it killed Iridial. First the radiance – then the confusion. Madness. Death.’

‘You must listen to me, Jerame. The madness is not what it seems. The death – may not be death as we understand it. She is Lifhendil. Ach, if you would only read what I have been transcribing –’

‘I haven’t time. I have to find her. And I have a good idea where she is.’ Jerame seized his hat and gloves and made to stand up.

‘I have not finished,’ Dame Tradescar said in a voice of iron. Jerame hesitated… then put the gloves down again. ‘Well?’ he said brusquely.

‘To the city-builders, children gifted as Orial now is were special. When the “madness” came, it was regarded as a divine sign. Unchecked, it precipitated the sufferer into a trance-like state where all outward life-signs ceased.’

‘No.’ Jerame slowly shook his head in denial. ‘Not… possible.’

‘Read what I have written. It is all based on accounts left by the Lifhendil themselves,’ Jolaine pushed the open book around so that Jerame could read for himself.

A NEW PERSPECTIVE ON THE ACCIDIE

The one possessed could choose either to leave her family and become immortal as one of the Winged Ones, Eä-Endil – or to forego her chance of immortality and bear children who might themselves become Endil. The madness could only be lifted by the ministrations of the Winged Ones who –

At this point Jolaine’s writing trailed away.

Jerame stared at the translation in disbelief. If this were true, then Iridial…

‘Winged Ones? Immortals?’ All the solitary years of study had finally turned the old woman’s brain. ‘This is mythology! Moonshine!’ He brought down his clenched first upon the open book. ‘I know only medical certainties. When the heart stops pumping, then the blood supply to the brain ceases and death ensues. Her heart had stopped. She was dead when we dragged her from the Avenne.’