“And no doors.” D’Averc nodded. “I am certain that this city was not built for human useand that humans did not build it!”

“Perhaps some beings created in the Tragic Millennium,” Hawkmoon suggested. “Beings like the Wraith Folk of Soryandum.”

D’Averc nodded his head in agreement.

Now ahead of them the strange shadows seemed to gather closer together and they passed into them, an impression of great wellbeing overcoming them. Hawkmoon smiled in spite of his fears, and D’Averc, too, answered his smile. The glowing shadows swam around them. Hawkmoon began to wonder if perhaps these shadows were, in fact, the inhabitants of the city.

They passed out of the street and stood in a huge square without doubt the very centre of the city. Rising from the middle of this square was a cylindrical building. In spite of being the largest building in the city it also seemed the most delicate. Its walls moved with coloured light and Hawkmoon noticed something at its base.

“Look, D’Avercsteps leading to a door!”

“What should we do, I wonder,” whispered his friend.

Hawkmoon shrugged. “Enter, of course. What have we to lose?”

“Perhaps we shall discover the answer to that question within. After you, Duke of Koln!”

The two mounted the steps and climbed until they reached the doorway. It was relatively smallof human size in fact and within it they could see more of the glowing shadows.

Hawkmoon stepped bravely forward with D’Averc immediately behind him.

Chapter Six

Jehamia Cohnahlias

THEIR FEET SEEMED to sink into the floor and the glowing shadows wrapped themselves around them as they advanced into the scintillating darkness of the tower.

A sweet sound now filled the corridorsa gentle sound like an unearthly lullaby. The music increased their sense of wellbeing. They pressed deeper into the strangely organic construction.

And then suddenly they stood in a small room, full of the same golden, pulsing radiance they had seen earlier from the boat.

And the radiance came from a child.

He was a boy, of oriental appearance, with a soft, brown skin, clad in robes on to which jewels had been stitched so that the fabric was completely hidden.

He smiled and his smile matched the gentle radiance surrounding him. It was impossible not to love him.

“Duke Dorian Hawkmoon von Koln,” he said sweetly, bowing his head, “and Huillam D’Averc. I have admired both your painting and your buildings, sir.”

D’Averc was astonished. “You know of those?”

“They are excellent. Why do you not do more?”

D’Averc coughed in embarrassment. “II lost the knack, I suppose. And then the war…”

“Ah, of course. The Dark Empire. That is why you are here.”

“I would gather so”