The crew were brought up short and Silus was just reaching out to touch the stone when the man reappeared.

“My apologies. Please, it is perfectly safe to follow.”

As they passed through the wall, they experienced a curious sensation, as though the grime of the desert had been removed from their bodies and they now wore freshly laundered clothes.

“It is necessary that we keep the environment onboard sterile,” said their guide. “If you will please follow me, I shall introduce you to the head of the council.”

From the outside, the structure had appeared to be the epitome of silent, graceful beauty. By contrast, the interior was a scene of controlled chaos.

The corridor in which they stood was thronged with people, all hurriedly going about their business. Most of them were similar in appearance to those who had crowded around them earlier, but some shared similar features with the man with the silver eyes. No, Silus realised, not just similar; they were identical.

The rumble that Silus had felt outside was here a deep, bass roar. He could barely hear himself think. He lost count of the number of steps they climbed, the number of echoing chasms they crossed by delicate crystalline bridges, before they came at last to what he could safely say was an actual door. The first they seen since entering the strange edifice.

The door was opened by another silver-eyed man, who nodded at his fellow, before receiving the staff from him and ushering the visitors within.

Here, finally, was quiet. Silus’s ears buzzed with the battering they had received on their journey, and it took him a few moments to realise that the silver-eyed man was addressing them.

“-having trouble with our engines, hence the noise. Master Illiun will be with us shortly. Here he is now.”