“The winds in these parts are somewhat peculiar. You will understand what I mean.”

Hawkmoon shrugged in resignation.

They followed as Orland Fank led the way around the shore.

“It would seem that we are not quite as much the masters of our destinies as we should like,” murmured D’Averc sardonically as the small boat came in sight.

Chapter Five

A City of Glowing Shadows

HAWKMOON LAY SCOWLING in the small boat and D’Averc whistled a tune as he stood in the prow, the spray lashing his face. For a whole day now the wind had guided the craft, blowing them on what was plainly a particular course.

“Now I understand what Fank meant about the wind,” growled Hawkmoon. “This is no natural breeze. I resent the feeling of being the puppet of some supernatural agency.”

D’Averc grinned and pointed ahead. “Well, perhaps we’ll have a chance to voice our complaints to the agency itself. Seeland in sight.”

Hawkmoon rose reluctantly. There were faint signs of land on the horizon.

“And so we return to Amarehk!” D’Averc laughed.

“If only it were Europe and Yisselda were there.” Hawkmoon sat down again.

“Or even Londra, and Flana to comfort me.” D’Averc shrugged and began to cough theatrically. “Still, it is best this way, lest she find herself pledged to a sick and dying creature…”

Gradually they made out features on the shoreline: irregular cliffs, hills and beaches; some trees. Then, to the south, they saw a peculiar aura of golden lightlight which throbbed as if in concert to a gigantic heart.

“More disturbing phenomena.” D’Averc frowned.

The wind blew harder and the little boat turned toward the golden light.

“And we’re heading directly for it,” groaned Hawkmoon. “I am becoming tired of such things!”

Now it was clear they sailed into a bay formed by the mainland and a long island jutting out between the two shores. It was from the far end of this island that the golden light was pulsing.

The land on either side seemed pleasant, consisting of beaches and wooded hills, though there were no signs of habitation.

As they neared the source of the light, it began to fade until only a faint glow filled the sky and the boat’s speed diminished. They still sailed directly towards the light. They saw it, then, and were amazed …

It was a city of such grace and beauty it robbed them of speech. As huge as Londra, if not larger, its buildings were symmetrical spires and domes and turrets, all glowing with the same strange light, but coloured in delicate, pale shades that lurked behind the goldpink, yellow, blue, green, violet and ceriselike a painting created in light and then washed with gold. Its magnificent beauty did not seem a proper habitation for human creatures, but for gods.