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they'll never admit it, not to the likes of us.’ The ship groaned. A loud crack reverberated through the hull. ‘But the best, the best is yet to come. We're close to the middle now. They say—’
    Tuuran didn't finish. Or perhaps he did and Bellepheros simply didn't hear. The heaving and rolling of the ship abruptly stopped. The clouds vanished, the lightning and the sea too, and now outside there was nothing at all, and through that nothing the ship drifted silent and still. All that sound and fury, suddenly gone. Tuuran's eyes gleamed. ‘Always in whispers, in the dark, they talked about it,’ he said. ‘But none of us had ever seen it.’ He pointed at the emptiness outside. ‘That, my Lord Alchemist! Make that your mistress! A thing deeper than dragons and they don't understand it. I couldn't begin. But you!’ His gaze bored into Bellepheros. ‘You, Lord Master Alchemist, you who have tamed dragons, you can make it ours! I've risked my life for you to see this. Remember that. Tame the storm-dark and one day take us home!’
    Bellepheros stared out of the window, although there was nothing at all to see. ‘I don't understand. Where is the storm? How can this be?’

    Tuuran gripped his arm, tight, fingers digging in to Bellepheros's skin until they hurt. ‘It can't be, Lord Alchemist. That is the point. It is the space between worlds. A place that cannot exist and yet does.’ But Bellepheros barely heard. The Taiytakei came from across the sea. Everyone knew that. From another land, distant and unreachable. Everyone knew that too. From another world? Yes, he'd heard it said, but not meant, not literally.
    There was no motion. Not even the slightest rocking of the ship. They weren't even in the sea any more. And outside the silence was perfect, the darkness complete.
    On a whim he picked up his lamp and threw it out of the window, then peered out to look. It fell away, a bright speck of light, down and down and down for ever, like a little falling fading star until it was too dim to see.
    Impossible. A void between worlds.
    The ship lurched, violent and without warning, smacking Bellepheros's head against the frame of the window. Light and noise and howling wind slammed back like a punch in the face. He reeled as the churning sea and the maelstrom of night-black cloud returned. The ship shuddered sideways. Tuuran fell and Bellepheros tipped and rolled back to the floor on top of him. A brilliant flash of violent purple lit up the cabin. He caught sight of Tuuran's eyes. They were mad, filled with hunger and desire, and with belief.
    I cannot . He couldn't say the words. There was no alchemy for this, but Tuuran still stared and Bellepheros couldn't speak, and so they sat pressed together and watched as the lightning flashed and the storm raged until it fell slowly away and the clouds became grey and broken and the sky finally emerged between them, blue and bright, and at the last the sun. In the distance ahead of them, as Bellepheros pressed his head to the wall to peer forward through the broken porthole, a new line smeared the horizon. Land. Tuuran picked himself off the floor. ‘That is Xican, Lord Master Alchemist. The City of Stone. That's where they are taking you.’
    ‘And you?’ He couldn't think of anything else to say.
    The Adamantine Man shrugged his shoulders. ‘Back to the sea. To sail on it.’ He nodded to the broken shutters. ‘Or else they'll throw me into it to drown for showing you what they fear the most. No matter. I'll survive or I'll die.’

    Bellepheros pressed his head against the wall again and looked out of the window, back the way they'd come this time, and there it was, an endless line of storm clouds that seemed to go on for ever, receding into the distance. The storm-dark. And he knew that what he'd seen in its midst would haunt his dreams.
    ‘A last thing, Master Alchemist.’ Tuuran chuckled. ‘Look at the sun, bright and high in the sky. How long ago did you watch