It was getting harder to see, but she thought she could make out a larger shape, some confection of feathers and darkness that stood tall and majestic. She fancied that its arms were open, and that is was waiting for her.

Chandni raised her head and the Birdkin watched, intense and silent, as she walked towards it.

They’d put it off for as long as they could, but eventually they had to get Rochant onto the Godroad. Tal scrambled up first, using Sa-at’s shoulder as a stepping stone, and then between them, they lifted Rochant up the ten feet of sheer crystal.

‘Your turn,’ said Tal, holding out a hand.

Sa-at backed off so that he could get a good run at it. He was good at jumping and climbing, and was pleased that Tal would get to see. With practised ease, he sprinted forward, then sprung into the air. Tal caught his hands and pulled, adding to his momentum, and the two of them stumbled into the middle of the Godroad, both immensely pleased with themselves.

By the time Sa-at had realized that his right palm was itching, the sensation had already escalated to a searing hot pain. He called out, clutching his wrist so that he could hold his hand steady and look at it. The pain intensified, and within the darkness of the oval pit in the centre of his palm, he saw a light. Not blue nor silver like that of the Godroad itself, but yellow and red, flickering.

It is fire.

It is fire!

I am on fire!

He fell to his knees, unable to scream, unable to do anything but watch the skin hiss and the smoke belch from his palm, a prisoner to his pain.

Tal picked him up under the shoulders.

‘No,’ said Rochant.

‘But, my lord, look at him! I have to get him off the Godroad.’

‘Leave him be. He needs to be purged if he is to come with us.’

Tal let go and stepped back. ‘I’m sorry.’

Sa-at didn’t react, couldn’t react. The fire brightened but did not spread, building until his eyes hurt with the sight of it. Worst of all was the smell, seeping into him.

In the end it was too much. His eyes blurred with tears, the light fragmenting into a dozen spots of burning brightness, and then he was falling sideways.

It felt as though he fell for a long time, and it was some surprise to find that when he came to, much, much later, that he was still on the Godroad. His hand ached and when he looked at it, there was an oval of skin, puffy, featureless and white, where the nostril in his palm had been.

‘It’s gone,’ he said. And though it stung every time the air brushed against it, he felt better somehow, lighter.

‘Can you walk?’ asked Rochant.

‘I think so.’