'Don't move!' He lashed at her with the rope. One end caught her on the cheek. She cried out, he jerked her to him and swiftly bound her hands.

'Call me what you like,' he gritted, 'I'll not untie you again until we stand inside the gates of the manufactory.'

Ullii came creeping up the steps. After slowly circumnavigating the room, she looked out through the glass with her masked eyes.

When Tiaan was so bound that she could move neither hands nor arms, Nish ran a length of rope from her to him. 'Go down!' he croaked, harsh as a raven.

Dead inside, Tiaan obeyed. Should she take the first opportunity to fall and carry him with her? She had just set her foot on the top step when, with a whirr, the glass wall slid into the stone.

Nish spun around. 'What's that, Ullii?'

'I can see the Art,' Ullii said softly.

Someone rose from the seat. The figure turned, tossing back her hood. As she approached, the sun caught her hair, illuminating a few flame-red strands among the grey. Her hands were bare, the fingers remarkably long, almost twice the length of her palm. Aachim! Chills fizzed up and down Tiaan's backbone.

T HREE

The woman stopped inside the door. She was taller than Tiaan, about the height of a human man. Her pale face was lined, though that took nothing away from an austere and ageless beauty. Large grey eyes held just a hint of green. The red eyebrows were fluffed with grey. Her small ears were perfectly circular.

'What are you doing here?' she said in the common speech. Her voice was soft, low and without accent.

No one spoke. Tiaan glanced sideways at Nish, who was staring at the woman, brow furrowed.