What had she been expecting? Cramoisy had been right all along, although she had refused to acknowledge it until now; for Amaru Khassian the music would always come first. They had shared a unique meeting of minds – and he had come to offer her the chance to share in that experience again; the music was the only way he could express his love and gratitude.

She could not refuse.

Besides, it was the first opportunity in her life to fulfil her long-cherished wish: to attend an opera.

‘Very well.’ She turned around to face him, smiling through her tears. ‘I accept – with pleasure. But you must promise me one thing. That you will come to the Temple again before you leave for Bel’Esstar. Tomorrow.’

The young Lotos Priestess walked through the Undercity; as she passed the portal to the Hall of Whispering Reeds, a gust of steam stirred her hair, stirred the petals of the star-lilies she carried.

‘And then the extraordinary genius of the Lifhendil was revealed to us when the ancient mechanism was triggered…’

Within, Jolaine Tradescar was explaining her discoveries to a group of visiting Antiquarians from the University of Can Tabrien. The Priestess smiled secretly to herself as she went on her way to lay star-lilies on Iridial’s shrine. There she lifted out her cithara, tuned it carefully and retraced her steps.

Priests and Priestesses had gathered by the springs; she bowed her head to them and took her place. Settling the cithara against her shoulder, she took up the plectrum and struck a flurry of notes.

Orial lifted her head and sang. She sang the music she had been born to sing, the thread that linked her with the distant musicmakers of the past.

And as she sang, she scanned the assembled watchers… until she caught sight of a man standing aloof from the others, a man whose utter stillness told her that he was listening with rapt attention.

He had come.

Her clear voice rang out, piercing the drifting mists from the steam, darting like a dragonfly into the higher registers, lifting towards the light.