If he got the opportunity to speak.

But whatever else happened, he must stay here, in public view. He was lost if the Kyrosdyn managed to take him to the Vaskyros.

‘What did you do that for?’ he spluttered, mustering all the injured innocence he could find.

The Kyrosdyn paused, tilted his head on one side, then brought his face close to Pinnatte’s. ‘I think you know,’ he said softly. Pinnatte’s insides tightened. It was as though the man’s gaze was burning through him. He wanted desperately to look away, but the grip on his neck prevented him from moving and all he could do was screw up his eyes.

‘No, I don’t,’ he managed to protest.

The Kyrosdyn moved a finger in front of his unblinking eyes. The strange gesture was made slowly and with a deliberateness that frightened Pinnatte far more than any angry fist-clenching could have done. He could do no other than focus on the man’s hand, turning the staring eyes into a glinting blur in the background. As if in some way he might hide from what was happening, he found himself noting that the hand was long and delicate – like a woman’s, almost – and it was clean. Very clean. However the Kyrosdyn practised their craft, it involved nothing that would coarsen and harden the hands.

‘Look at me,’ came the command. Pinnatte could not disobey and, once again, he was staring into the Kyrosdyn’s eyes. The soft, high-pitched voice continued. ‘We who study the crystals have a vision which you could not begin to imagine. We look into the very heart of all things.’ The voice dropped almost to a whisper. ‘Even into the worlds between and beyond. So when you sought to steal from us, your every line and shadow was etched into our mind on the instant. Your flight was a mere irritation – one which will worsen your punishment. It is not possible to hide from us – the echo of your stunted, shrivelled soul shone in the air itself. Nor is it possible to avoid the consequences that your desecration has set in train.’