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‘Little Empress,’ said one of the women, ‘we know why you have come. You have been expected.’

‘Really?’ Seda replied. ‘And yet I feel anything but welcome.’

‘Do you think that what you seek here should be easy?’ the man asked acidly. ‘We have hoarded our power for a thousand years, so would you resent us taking steps to discourage the unworthy?’

Seda gave a hard smile, gazing up at them amid the leaping, bluish light. ‘Tell me why I am here, then?’

‘You are here to learn,’ the other woman told her.

‘It is creditable.’ The first nodded slowly. ‘You have discovered in yourself the last drop of magic known to your people, but you do not know what to do with it. You have been diligent in seeking enlightenment, until it has led you to us, the first lords and ladies of mankind. You wish to learn from us.’ They spoke softly, the Masters of Khanaphes, but their words created vast echoes that resounded – felt but unheard – about the cavernous spaces of this, their resting place. She was at the heart of it here, now, where all the remnants of ancient power had been hoarded and husbanded. Her body thrilled to it, telling her that she belonged here at their feet, as their humblest slave and servant, if only they would consent to let her know . . .

Seda nodded along with those thoughts. She saw Gjegevey staring at her worriedly, and wondered what it was she had woken him from. What constituted a Woodlouse nightmare?

When he saw that he had caught her eye, the old man shook his head. He must feel the leaden weight of their power and of all the ages they had stored up here. If they extended their hand to him, she mused, then perhaps he would already be kneeling before them in obeisance.

They were leaning on her, perhaps without even intending to, pressuring her into following the path that they had already set out. No doubt they could not even imagine her saying no. Their confidence in her eventual decision was complete.

Was almost complete. For, of course, she – the other one who had stood here and also been given this choice – she had refused.

And I do not kneel. Not even before the Masters of Khanaphes.

‘I think you underestimate the extent of my studies,’ she declared. Seeing their disdainful expressions, she added quickly, ‘Oh, Masters, I cannot pretend to match your many centuries. I can only guess at your long histories that the turning of the ages has overwritten. No doubt, when the world was young, you held the reins of power and the other kinden clustered around your feet like children. Perhaps, after that, you idled on your thrones while young races, those that we now think of as ancient and occult, squabbled for the scraps from your tables. Certainly I cannot guess how many centuries have passed since you last truly stirred yourselves or exercised your power. Until the Scorpions came to lay waste your city, that is, and you were forced to it. And which hand set those barbarians at your gates, if not my Empire’s? Who could have then guessed what Brugan’s foolishness would unearth?’

Her own words did not raise the same great, soundless echoes that theirs did. They raised only sharp, real echoes, that whiplashed across the faces of the Masters, for nobody had ever addressed to them in such a manner since the dawn of time.

‘I am not here to learn,’ she explained, speaking into the ringing silence. ‘I am not here to sit at your feet and be satisfied with whatever pittance you grant me. I am the Empress of the Wasps, and I am no mere subject, not even for the first lords and ladies of mankind. You know what I am here for.’

There were more of them appearing now, their huge figures striding towards her between the pillars. They eyed her impassively, arrogantly, but she stared them down. And do I detect the faintest quiver of doubt?

Then one of the men sighed heavily and said, ‘We are sorry that you have come such a way only for this. To stand before the Masters of Khanaphes and dare to make demands is only foolishness.’ He did not sound angry, though, just disappointed. Even so, she felt a surge of their power building