She clenched her teeth. Although excited by the prospect, she shook her head. Little Horse–Ihuarraquax–pricked up his ears, pawed the ground with a hoof and glanced at her with his black eye. The ruddy unicorn stamped so hard the ground shook, and twisted its horn menacingly. It snorted angrily, and Ciri understood.

You don’t trust us.

‘I don’t,’ she confessed cheerfully. ‘Everybody here is playing a game of their own, and trying to exploit me in my ignorance. Why exactly should I trust you? There’s clearly no love lost between you and the elves. I saw for myself on the steppe how there was almost a fight. I can easily assume you want to use me to annoy them. I’m not fond of them either, after all they’ve imprisoned me and are forcing me to do something I don’t want to do at all. But I won’t allow myself to be taken advantage of.’

The ruddy unicorn shook his head, and his horn made a threatening movement again. The blue-grey one neighed. Ciri’s head thundered like the inside of a well, and the thought she picked up was unpleasant.

‘Aha!’ she cried. ‘You’re just like them! Either subservience and obedience, or death? I’m not afraid! And I won’t let myself be abused!’

She felt confusion and chaos in her head again. It was some time before a clear thought emerged.

It’s good, Star-Eye, that you don’t like being taken advantage of. That is precisely what concerns us. That is precisely what we want to guarantee to you. To ourselves. And to the whole world. To all worlds.

‘I don’t understand.’

You are a dangerous weapon, a fell weapon. We can’t allow that weapon to fall into the hands of the Alder King, the Fox or the Sparrowhawk.

‘Who?’ she stammered. ‘Ah…’

The Alder King is old. But the Fox and the Sparrowhawk cannot seize power over Ard Gaeth, the Gateway to the Worlds. They captured it once. They lost it once. Now they can do nothing more than wander, roam among the worlds taking tiny steps, alone, like spectres, powerless. The Fox to Tir ná Béa Arainne, the Sparrowhawk and his horsemen around the Spiral. They can go no further, they don’t have the strength. Which is why they dream of Ard Gaeth and power. We shall show you how they have already abused such power. We shall show you, Star-Eye, when you leave here.

‘I can’t leave here. They’ve put a spell on me. A barrier. Geas Garadh…’

You cannot be imprisoned. You are now Master of the Worlds.

‘Like hell. I don’t have any natural talent, I can’t control anything. And I relinquished the Power in the desert, a year ago. Little Horse was a witness.’

In the desert you relinquished conjuring. The Power you have in your blood cannot be relinquished. You still have it. We shall teach you how to use it.

‘And isn’t it, perhaps,’ she shouted, ‘that you want to capture that power, this power over the worlds that I reputedly have?’