“It might not be an inborn power,” I said, “but I believe it can be learned. And if others can be taught, then total freedom for the Quelled is not impossible. When we all have learned the warmth, we’ll have less need for fire. Don’t you see what this means, Lesharo? We’ll need only a few firestones, for cooking and for light. I’ll need to divine just a few times a year. We’ll close most of the mines. The slavery of our race will be over. There will be no Quelled.”

Speechless, he stared at me. His eyes were wet, and I could not tell whether it was from the cold, or because he wept.

Out on the great plateau we met, where, months before, Amasai and Zune had fought their battle. It was a bitter dawn, and the wind foretold more snow. We came in secret, safe from Maelmor’s spies, to test my belief.

Dannii had chosen well. In the misty grey of first light, I saw that there were forty people. There were ten priests who were not hostile to us; Laken and other elderly temple staff; several children; craftsmen; a group of soldiers; several Quelled ambassadors; and some young people from the city, laughing and curious, and ready to dare anything.

They stood in a long line on the edge of the plateau. The gale flattened the rich fur of their coats, and tore the hoods back from their heads. All the Chosen wore fur-lined boots and gloves. The older ones were silent and tense, worried at the secrecy. When I stood before them, they hushed the young people, and waited for me to speak.

“There is something new I want you to learn,” I said. “It is to do with the human will, and with warmth. If you manage to learn this skill, I want you to practise it for two weeks, then see if you can teach five others. All this must be done in secret. I want to be certain that this ability is possible for everyone, before I tell Maelmor of it, and then, all people. Tell only the five you will teach, and no one else. And those five, too, must keep the secret. Now … will you please remove your boots and gloves, your coats and hoods and outer garments, and I will tell you a new way to be warm.”

Shaking, bewildered, they did as I asked. And out there on that windswept ground east of Kasimarra, in the dim dawn light, the people fought a new battle against their ancient enemy, the cold. It was a battle fought in silence, fought in the mind and heart and veins, and in the mighty arena of the human will. In the beginning there was disbelief, pain, fear, and failure. But there was courage, too, and triumph.

By morning’s end they all, to some extent, were warm.