The city had been visible hours before they’d finally arrived at its gates, tall, domed towers reaching to the sky and glittering in the rising sun. It had been a long hot walk from the gateway, where they’d said farewell to Rina and handed over their warm clothes. The cold of Uamut was a distant memory, banished by the heat of this new world, and the wonder of the glittering city whose walls were carved and decorated like nothing Saryth had ever seen before. Standing in the shade of the gates, queueing to be admitted, he lost himself in the intricacies of the coloured carvings above him.

“Names, please?” Saryth dragged his attention back to the guard standing in front of them, a polite bored smile on his face.

“Kite.”

“Saryth.”

“What is your business here?”

“We’re visiting my kin,” Kite said.

“Who is that, and where do they live?”

“Tiana Shey, in the Sun Quarter.”

“And under which god do you make your journey?”

“The sun god.”

“Thank you. Welcome to Ath Shera. The Sun Quarter is that way, close to the centre.”

“Thank you very much.”

The city inside the walls was a mix of wide, open streets where people walked with pack animals or carried their own loads, and hopeful vendors of drinks and fruit called out the virtues of their wares, and small shady alleys with overhanging balconies. Steps wound here and there, up and down, leading to more balconies and walkways, so that the city seemed to have multiple levels. Children scampered up and down the streets and stairways calling to each other. The architecture was carved and decorated like the gates had been, so that each turn brought something new for Saryth to marvel at. It was all so very different from the grey stone of Kirmouth, or the red roofs of Taerside. It wasn’t just the buildings, it was the people too, although he tried not to stare at any one person. Most of the people they passed wore loose robes in pale colours with vibrant patterns around the hems or sleeves, and head coverings to protect them from the sun. Their skin was all different shades from very dark, like the guards at the gate, to almost as pale as Kite, and their hair, where he could see it, varied in colour from red-brown to black. But their speech and activities - chatting, laughing, carrying loads, leading animals and selling wares - were reassuringly familiar, and although he and Kite stood out both in colour and clothing, they barely attracted any attention as they made their way through the streets. In a way, it was better even than Taerside, where he’d only escaped notice by way of the hair dye.

“What was all that about at the gate?” he asked Kite.

“That is the mark of a true civilisation.” She grinned at him. If her black cloak was too hot in the sun, she was hiding it well.

“What?”

“Paperwork. Bureaucracy.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, never mind.” She turned a corner and started up a broad flight of steps.

“And what was all that about a sun god?”

“Ah well.. I picked the most appropriate answer. This culture has a pantheon of deities, with four overall. Sun, moon, earth and sky.” She gestured to the decorations on the walls around them, which were patterns designed around four different circles. “All the lesser ones are specific combinations of the main four. Everyone here lives, works and travels under one particular god. And the first thing you do when you arrive at your destination is to offer thanks at the appropriate place.” She reached the top of the stairs and waved at the building which loomed before them. “Here - the temple of Rinuza, the god of the sun.”

Saryth reached the top and paused to catch his breath and stare. The temple had a wide entrance with pillars either side holding up arches which mimicked a roof without preventing the sun from lighting up the paving stones below. Shallow, broad steps led up to a courtyard beyond which several doors led into a dark interior. The pillars, arches and doors were decorated with more of the intricate carving, and in these carvings the circle with four points dominated. That must be the sun marking. The stone was a golden yellow colour and the carvings were picked out with red and green paint, with here and there a glitter of blue suggesting some kind of gemstone had been used. From the left-hand door a figure emerged, a bald man in a pale yellow robe with bold red triangular markings along the hems. He wore a similarly-marked sash tied around his head.

“Welcome,” he said. “Are you travellers?”

“We are. We wish to offer thanks for a safe journey.”

“The foreigners’ door is to your right.” He held out two candles, and Kite offered a small gem from her pack. He hesitated slightly, then took it. Kite held out one of the candles to Saryth.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

They went up to the right hand door, and Kite knelt down and started unlacing her boots.

“Take your boots off,” she said, and Saryth hurried to follow her lead.

The interior of the temple was cool and dim, although that was mainly in contrast to the light outside. Drapes covered the walls of the small room, beautifully embroidered with the sun motif a common theme. In the middle of the room was a wooden box the size of a small table bearing three lit candles in ornate golden candlesticks. The wood gleamed darkly under their flickering light, and here and there gold inlay shone brighter, catching the eye. A small shelf ran around the box, a few inches from the top, with smaller candleholders arranged along it, some holding lit candles. Saryth, copying Kite, lit his candle from one of these small ones and wedged it into one of the free candleholders. Kite paused for a moment, then left, and he followed her out.

“Thank you,” the priest said, after they’d put their boots back on. “Blessings of the sun be with you.”

Saryth managed to hold his questions in until they had gone back down the flight of stairs and were in among the normal streets again.

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “You never said anything about sun gods before.”

“Before, we weren’t in this world,” Kite said. “You have to use the world’s terminology to describe your purpose. That’s why, in your world, I said I was on Quest.”

“You weren’t?”

“The custom of Questing is unique to your world. However, it was an adequate description of the journey I was - we are - on.”

“Hmf.” Saryth looked aside. It made sense, and why should an ancient custom from his home be common on other worlds, but somehow... it felt a bit wrong. He’d accepted what Kite said as the truth, but if the truth changed from world to world, how could he rely on it? Or did it change? Was it just the way it appeared that changed?

Kite had worried when she’d first read the instructions at Pyetr’s, but Ath Shera wasn’t such a maze as it first appeared, and she found Tiana’s house after just a couple of wrong turns. She studied the door in front of her, as richly decorated as all the others she’d seen, and identified the patterns Pyetr had told her to look for. Satisfied, she rang the little bell on the right hand door and it opened promptly to reveal the unsmiling face of a young woman.

“Yes?”

“I’m kin of Tiana Shey,” Kite said. “Could you tell her we’re here, please?”

“One moment.” The woman turned away, shutting the door again.

“How many kin do you have,” Saryth asked, “and why are they in so many different worlds?

“Later.” The door opened again, this time to a cheerful round woman with intricately braided black hair. A broad smile lit her face.

“I’m Kite, and I travel in search of that which is lost,” Kite said formally.

“Hello! I’m Tiana, and I live in hope that it will be found. Welcome! Do come in.”

“This is Saryth, my travelling companion.” Kite braced herself. “He’s from Araithel.” There was a twitch from Saryth but he kept quiet. Tiana didn’t bat a eyelid.

“Welcome to you also, Saryth. Come this way, I’ll have cool drinks and fruit brought through.”

The room Tiana led them to was floored and walled in marble, blessedly cool after the heat of the midday sun outside. Kite and Saryth divested themselves of their cloaks and boots and left them in the care of the disapproving maidservant, then seated themselves on the cushioned couch in the centre of the room. Tiana took a seat on a similarly comfortable chair as a different maid brought in a tray with the promised drinks and fruit and placed it on the little table between them.

“So, what news do you have?”

“I’ve got letters from Pyetr and Dominic,” Kite said. “Both just general, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine. Any news is good. But you must be here for something.”

“Yes. We’re looking for the sun of Harien.”

“Oh my...” Tiana’s eyes grew wide. “Oh dear. How can I help?”

“We’re tracking it by searching for the disturbances it creates. Have there been any here within the last six years? Anything unusual which happened?”

“Ah... there might be one thing.” Tiana looked dubious.

“Yes?” Kite felt her breathing quicken and tried to be calm. This had been such a long shot, she hadn’t expected anything at all.

“About a year ago,” Tiana said slowly, “one of the older priests from the temple of Rinuza claimed the avatar of the sun god was here. He gathered a small following, but was excommunicated from the temple for heresy. After that, he preached in the streets. I saw him once or twice. But the young man - the supposed avatar - disappeared six months ago.” She looked down at her interlaced fingers. “And ever since, the old man’s been in the Sun Quarter poor house. He should be there or nearby if you want to see him.”

“I think I would. Thanks very much.” Kite could hardly believe her ears. It might be coincidence, it might be nothing. Tiana clearly didn’t think it was anything important at the time, or she’d have reported it then. But she could still hope.

“The poor house is two streets down, turn left, then on the right, across the square with the well. It has an inset door with a curtain at the entrance, blue with red sun motifs, and the trident symbol on a sign. Will you be staying tonight?”

“Yes please, if that’s all right with you.” Kite stood up, and Saryth followed. Tiana led them back to the front door.

“I’ll have rooms prepared,” she smiled. “Good luck.”

Outside again, Saryth hurried to catch up with Kite.

“Kin?” he asked.

“Yes. We’re all of the same people.”

“What, Tiana too?” Everything about her was so different from Kite, it didn’t seem plausible to him.

“Yes. We all come from the same place.”

“So why are you on different worlds? And why is my world “Araithel”?”

“We name a world after the first city we find. It’s just a label, really.” Saryth digested that in silence. I’ve never heard of Araithel.

“And we’re on so many worlds to provide a support and communication network,” Kite went on. “We’re all looking for one thing, ultimately. Hence the greeting. We’re all looking for our world.” She looked away, an odd expression on her face.

“You lost it?”

“Yes. Remember that story I always tell? Pretty much like that. We went to explore and never found our way home. Anyway,” she picked up the pace. “We’re here.” Saryth hesitated, then let the question be and followed her across the square to the door which Tiana had described.

The poor house was on the other side of the temple to the entrance steps, a tall house with the same balconies and decorated windows as all the others, but when Kite rang the bell a temple attendant came to the door.

“Who, Bartimelus?” she said, in response to Kite’s question. “No, I’m sorry- he’s gone out today. He’s probably close by. You’ll know him by his robe - he still wears his vestments.”

They found the priest round the corner, nearby as promised, an old man wearing the same robes and sash as the priest they’d met in the temple. He was sitting on a bench by a pair of doors also bearing a sun motif. Do they belong to the temple? Saryth felt a pang of pity for the old man. Is that as close as he can get now? He’d never really considered what it would mean to be cast out of a beloved home. Kite walked straight up to him.

“Are you Bartimelus?” she asked. “The priest of Rinuza?” The old man raised his head and squinted at her from under bushy eyebrows.

“I am,” he said, and his voice was deep but unexpectedly soft, almost hard to hear. “I was. Why?”

“I - we - we wanted to ask you about the man you followed.”

“About Aeryn? Why?”

“We think he might be able to help us. I’m Kite, and this is Saryth.”

“And you’re looking for the sun, eh?” Saryth started and Kite blinked, surprised, and the old man smiled. “Don’t worry, I was just remembering... It’s what they said of me when I came to the temple at the age of six.” He looked down for a moment, as though lost in those memories, then went on. “Yes. So. Aeryn arrived almost a year ago. I was the first to see him - I was on Sanctuary duty that morning. He was naked and clinging to the altar as though he were drowning and it was a raft. He was - is - young, and his hair is long and wavy, blond and gold and fire all at once. Even his eyes are gold. But he wasn’t a foreigner, like you two. He was special.” There was remembered wonder in the old man’s face as he spoke, reverence in his quiet voice. “I was so sure when I saw him. Even his name is auspicious. ‘Aer’ means ‘of’ or ‘from’, so ‘Aeryn’ means ‘child of Rinuza’, or ‘sent by Rinuza’, or ‘messenger of the sun’, or similar. Even ‘radiant child’. So I proclaimed him.” He took a long breath and let it all out, a deflating sigh. “And I was cast out as a heretic. I could not persuade enough of the others to commit as I had. Six months later, he left, and the crowd of credulous half-believers melted away as well. So I am old, and poor, and left with discredited dreams.”

“Do you know where he went?” Kite asked.

“Why?” The old man stood up suddenly. He was taller than either Kite or Saryth and unexpectedly threatening. “Do you seek him? Do you wish him harm?” Saryth, unnerved, took a step back.

“No!” Kite said hastily. “He’s important... very important. We need to find him.” Bartimelus relaxed.

“I was told he went west. But, if you’re following him, may I go with you? I... I did not have the courage to follow him before.”

Kite glanced at Saryth, then nodded.

“All right. Tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Bartimelus smiled. “I will wait for you at the poor house.”

As they walked away, Kite sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Saryth blinked, surprised.

“For what?”

“I said he could come without asking you.”

Saryth wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He hadn’t expected to be asked in the first place.

“Well, I agree anyway,” he said eventually.

“Are you ready for practice tonight and tomorrow?”

“Yup!”

Tiana fed them like royalty that evening, the food unlike anything Saryth had ever tried before. Small dishes were spread out across the long low table, containing tangy crumbly cheese, fresh and pickled vegetables, salty black olives, little fish with tomato sauce, rice and meat wrapped in leaves and steeped in a sour but delicious dressing, flat bread and several different pates and pastes to dip it into. Tiana showed them how to eat it with their fingers, making frequent use of the washing bowls supplied to each of them. The meal was finished off by fresh fruit juice, which was delicious but utterly unfamiliar to Saryth, and then afterwards there was sweet tea, bitter coffee and tiny delicious pastries.

“That was wonderful!” Kite said, and Tiana beamed at them.

“I’m so glad you like it. Is there anything else you need?”

“Would it be possible to use a room tonight and your roof tomorrow for practice?”

“Yes, of course. My servant will show you to a room.”

“Thank you very much.” Kite finished her coffee and stood up. Saryth drained his tea and followed her example.

“This way, please,” said the disapproving maidservant, and led them up two flights of stairs to a small attic room without any of the advantages of the downstairs. Floored in wood and lacking windows, it was warm from the day in the sun. Tiana clearly used it as a storage room, although even the storage here was elegant; finely carved chests and wardrobes were arranged along the walls. Kite sat down in the middle and Saryth seated himself opposite, prepared for an hour of intense concentration.

Kite’s idea of magic was very different to his. She spoke of patterns, of making a form and channeling the magic, of learning words to focus the magic he could wield, to direct it to what he wanted it to do. But he’d never learned anything formally, least of all magic. He’d never even met another sorcerer until Kite. His magic, his illusions, had always come naturally to him. He knew what he wanted people to see, and then they saw it. The more people there were, the harder it was to keep them seeing his illusion, but there were no forms to remember, nothing to chant or write. Kite instructed him to form the patterns in chalk on the floor, or imagine them in his head, because sometimes there wouldn’t be chalk, or a floor he could write on. It was hard work, it gave him a headache, and it seemed so limiting - but it worked. He hadn’t known he could summon animals until he’d managed an audience of squirrels outside Kirmouth. He had never made fire until they’d been caught in the rain outside Taerside. All these things he could do and he had never realised. All the same... illusions were so much easier.

“I’m so tired,” he said, after an hour of working on moving sticks. She grinned at him.

“Playing with the material world is very different from illusions. You’ll get used to it. Sleep well - we’ll be up early.”

In the morning they sparred on Tiana’s flat roof, the early sun not yet hot enough to make it an ordeal. Kite took Saryth through the defensive forms he was learning, then they took it in turns to practice defending themselves and disarming the other person. Blocks and kicks and punches, dodges and turns and take-downs. How to evade attack, how to run away (“always the best defence,” Kite had said).

After practice they washed in the clean cold water from Tiana’s well, and then there was breakfast, with the thick black coffee that had been on offer after dinner. Saryth nerved himself to try it, but it wasn’t to his taste.

“Take more sugar,” Kite suggested, but it took so much to take the edge off that it became coffee-flavoured syrup. Saryth drank it anyway.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Kite said to Tiana, who smiled.

“You’re very welcome. Did you sleep well?” She looked at Saryth, so he felt he ought to answer for himself.

“Yes, thank you,” he said, “although I’m not used to a room all on my own.” He meant it as a compliment, since Tiana was the first host who’d given them separate rooms, but she looked horrified.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! You two are -”

“No, no!” Kite jumped in, flushed and embarrassed. “Not at all! He just meant he isn’t used to sleeping without anyone else in the room!” Saryth flinched at the upset. What did I say?

“I can have a twin room prepared tonight,” Tiana offered.

“Thanks very much, but we’re leaving today.” Kite regained her composure. Saryth stared down, confused and unsure.

“Oh, you are? Will you take a letter or two?”

“Of course,” Kite said. Saryth glanced sideways at her. Were things back to normal?

“Which way are you going?” Tiana didn’t sound upset. The maid arrived to clear away the breakfast things. Saryth tried to breathe normally.

“West,” Kite said. “We’re following Aeryn - the ‘avatar’.”

“Oh, so you did see the priest then? How does it relate to the missing sun?”

“I have no idea. But it’s the best lead we’ve got, so...” she shrugged and stood up. Tiana accompanied them to the door, seemingly unbothered by whatever it was that Saryth had said. He kept his mouth shut anyway.

“Thank you again for your hospitality!” Kite said as they took their leave, and Tiana smiled.

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for taking the letters. Do come again if you return to this world.” She waved as they walked away. “Safe journey and best of luck!”

Saryth gazed around him as the rising sun cast long shadows through the streets, already bustling with people intent on getting things done before it got too hot.

“Cities are all so different,” he said, and Kite grinned at him, cheered by his enthusiasm.

“That’s part of what makes travelling so much fun,” she said.

There was a different priest standing outside the poor house, seemingly waiting for something to arrive from a different street, but as they approached he turned to them.

“Ah - are you the people who came to see Bartimelus yesterday?”

“Yes, why?”

“You can have this,” and he handed a priest’s robe to Kite, who took it. It was slightly damp and smelled lemony. The priest closed his eyes with an expression of sorrow. “I’m afraid Bartimelus died last night.” Kite stared at the man, who carried on as though reciting from a script. “The temple doesn’t want his robe and he has no kin. You may as well keep it, it has been washed. He died peacefully, in his sleep. The novice who found him said he was smiling. Good day.” He turned and walked away, to stand in a different corner of the small square, clearly done with them.

“Wait...” How was she supposed to deal with that? How could Bartimelus have died? He didn’t seem weak or sickly! She squeezed her eyes shut, reset her expectations. I shouldn’t be this upset. I didn’t even know him!

“Kite?” Saryth sounded uncertain.

“We can still go west,” Kite said, raising her head. Tears were threatening, and she struggled to keep her voice even. “‘Long, wavy hair, blond and gold and fire all at once’, he said. He can’t be hard to recognise.”

At the Western gate they stopped to give their names to another polite, bored guard.

“Kite and Saryth. We came in by the Southern gate yesterday.”

“Ah yes, thank you,” the guard said. “Safe journey.”

Saryth looked behind him as they left, and Kite stared at the road ahead.

“When we find him, we can give him Bartimelus’ farewell.”