Page 114 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

and in this is the extinction of the universe.

Niclays thought back to what he had learned about the riddle at university. It was from the Tablet of Rumelabar, found many centuries ago in the Sarras Mountains.

Ersyri miners had discovered a subterranean temple in those mountains. Stars had been carved on its ceiling, flaming trees onto its floor. A block of skystone had stood at its heart, and the words scored into it, written in the script of the first Southern civilization, had captivated academic minds the world over.

Niclays underlined one part of the riddle and contemplated its meaning.

Fire ascends from the earth.

Wyrms, perhaps. The Nameless One and his followers were said to have come from the Womb of Fire in the core of the world.

He underlined again.

Light descends from the sky.

The meteor shower. The one that had ended the Grief of Ages, weakened the wyrms, and granted strength to the Eastern dragons.

Too much of one doth inflame the other, and in this is the extinction of the universe.

A warning of disparity. This theory posited the universe as yoked to the balance of fire and starlight, weighed on a set of cosmic scales. Too much of either would tip them.

The extinction of the universe.

The closest the world had ever come to ending was the arrival of the Nameless One and his followers. Had some sort of imbalance in the universecreatedthese beasts of fire?

The sun beat hard on the back of his head. He found himself drowsing. When Eizaru woke him, his cheek was stuck to the parchment, and he felt as heavy as a sack of millet.

“Good afternoon, my friend.” Eizaru chuckled. “Were you working on something?”

“Eizaru.” Clearing his throat, Niclays peeled himself free. “No, no. Merely a trifle.”

“I see. Well,” Eizaru said, “if you are finished, I wondered if you might like to come with me into the city. The fisherfolk have brought a haul of silver crab from the Unending Sea, but it sells out quickly at the market. You must try it before you return to Orisima.”

“I fondly hope that I neverwillreturn to Orisima.”

His friend hesitated.

“Eizaru,” Niclays said, wary. “What is it?”

Eizaru reached into his robe, tight-lipped, and pulled out and handed him a scroll. The seal was broken, but Niclays could see it belonged to the Viceroy of Orisima.

“I received this today,” Eizaru said. “After your audience with the all-honored Warlord, you are to return to Orisima. A palanquin will collect you.”

Suddenly the scroll weighed more than a boulder. It might have been his death warrant.

“Do not despair, Niclays.” Eizaru laid a hand on his shoulder. “The honored Queen Sabran will relent. Until then, Purumé and I will seek permission to visit you in Orisima.”

It took Niclays all his strength to swallow his disappointment. It went down like a mouthful of thorns.

“That would be wonderful.” He dredged up a smile. “Come, then. I suppose I had better enjoy the city while I can.”

Purumé was absorbed in setting a bone, so once he was dressed, Niclays set out alone with Eizaru to the fish market. The sea lashed a stinging wind across the city, fogging his eyeglasses, and in his jaundiced state, the gazes he received seemed more suspicious than ever. As they passed a robe shop, its owner scowled at him. “Sickness-bearer,” she snapped.

Niclays was too downcast to respond. Eizaru directed a stern look at the woman over his eyeglasses, and she turned away.

In the moment his attention was diverted, Niclays trod on a booted foot.

He heard an intake of breath. Eizaru clutched him in time to break his fall, but the young Seiikinese woman whose foot he had squashed was not so fortunate. Her elbow knocked into a vase, which shattered on the paving stones.

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