‘Hurry,’ the Sekoi murmured.

The keeper went forward quickly and put both hands to the doors. He pushed hard, as if he expected them to be locked or swollen, but to their astonishment the wooden doors rolled smoothly back with a swish of sound.

And out of the House came light.

Blinding light.

24

We cannot undo his treachery. For once evil has entered the world, who can ever root it out?

Litany of the Makers

GALEN STRODE INTO the blaze; coming after him, Raffi stared round in amazement. The great room was brilliant with cubes of blazing light, standing on plinths against the walls. Everything was made of wood; the floor of smooth planks, and the walls of the branches of living trees that had grown and tangled in fantastic sculpture. How it had been done, he could not imagine. The scents of the wood were sweet and strong. He breathed them deep; they soothed him, like the forest at night.

All around, in strange arrangements, were relics; boxes of every size, dishes and plates of smooth strange materials, statues, pictures, books; a set of small shining discs that glimmered with a rainbow-sheen as Galen held one up. Everything had been arranged, put on display, and among the relics were hundreds of half-burned candles with the mark of the Order on them. It was a shrine, untouched since the secret of it died with the last Archkeeper to have closed the great doors. And behind, coming from everywhere, a faint whine, almost too thin to hear.

‘What are all these things?’ Carys touched a plate.

‘The belongings of the Makers,’ Galen said.

She looked at him. His face was unsmiling, but inside he was exultant; it cracked his voice and lit his eyes. ‘This is where they lived. Flain’s own house. The Order kept it as he left it, for always. This is the most holy place.’ He rubbed his face uneasily. ‘We profane it by bringing outsiders here.’

The Sekoi glanced back. ‘Keeper, we need to close those doors.’

As Galen took no notice, it ran back; Raffi went too. ‘Galen is overcome,’ the creature muttered. ‘He doesn’t care. But I can’t forget the Watch. Hurry, Raffi!’

Together they rolled the great doors closed, but there seemed to be no way of locking them. Looking round hastily, the Sekoi caught hold of a heavy table and began to drag it. ‘Help me!’ he hissed.

For a second Raffi paused, terrified to disturb anything; then he too tugged at the dark wood. After all, if the Watch got in, nothing would be left.

They jammed the table tight against the doors.

Galen was watching. ‘It won’t stop them.’ Then he turned. ‘Come and see this.’

It was a picture in a book. Not a painting. A picture that was real. Raffi stared at it, his skin crawling with delight. He was looking at another world.