Something spoke. It was the voice of a ghost, garbled, distorted in bursts of static. All they knew was that it had asked a question. Galen was shivering; pale with dread and joy. He gripped his hands together. ‘Hear me,’ he breathed. ‘We need you! Hear me, lords!’

Far away, aeons away, the Makers answered. ‘We hear you. Who is this? What frequency are you on?’

Galen’s voice was unsteady. ‘I am Galen Harn, of the Order. Masters, come back to us! The world is slipping into the dark. Tasceron is fallen; the Emperor is dead. Do you know what’s happening on your world, lords? We need you! Come back to us.’

A hiss of static. Behind them the door was jerking open; chairs crashing down. Only the Sekoi glanced back.

When the voice came again it was broken, the words fuzzy and slow, as if spoken distinctly and urgently, over and over.

‘What… world? What world?’

Galen made the sign of blessing. ‘Anara,’ he breathed. ‘Are there others?’

The answer was a crackle of noise. ‘Wait… light-years. Are you… colonists?’

Galen gripped the table. ‘Say it again,’ he pleaded. ‘What did you say? Will you come?’

But the hissing faded out and died.

The Crow was silent.

Galen bent over it, his face dark, and then slowly he straightened, and his eyes met Raffi’s.

‘They said they would come. They said, “Wait”.’

‘I’m not sure …’

‘They will, Raffi! I know they will!’

With a crack that turned Raffi sick, the force-lines exploded; the doors crashed wide, men leapt across the table.

Galen turned, standing in front of the Crow. The Watchmen stared at him, then round, curiously; each had a loaded bow and they were all pointing at Galen. Dizzy, Raffi pulled himself up and watched the Castellan shoulder his way through.

He was a grey, bearded man. He folded his arms and looked at them all in silence.

‘This is a great day for the Watch,’ he said softly.

It was Carys who moved. She came out from behind the Sekoi and said irritably, ‘You took your time! Where have you been?’

Raffi stared at her with horror.

The Castellan smiled. ‘We had some trouble. Been wishing we were here, have you?’

She shrugged and crossed to him. ‘They know about me. Things were getting a little difficult.’

‘So what have I missed?’

She turned round and looked at Galen, her face set and hard. ‘The keeper will tell you. Show them the Crow, Galen. Show them now.’

25

The leaves of the trees shall cry out for joy, for behold, the stars have spoken.

Apocalypse of Tamar

GALEN STARED AT her; their eyes met. He stepped back, until the Crow was on the table between them, and he spread his hands over it. For Raffi it was a moment of black despair. She had told them. It was all over.

Then the light went dim. The Watchmen looked round, uneasily.