was an older legend.... Ciaran, because he was a gypsy and a thief and had music in him like a drunkard has wine, had heard it, deep in the black forests of Hyperborea where even gypsies seldom go. The oldest legend of all—the tale of the Shining Youth from Beyond, who walked in beauty and power, who never grew old, and who carried in his heart a bitter darkness that no man could understand. The Shining Youth from Beyond. A boy sleeping with a smile on his face, walled in living light. Ciaran stood still, staring. His face was loose and quite blank. His heartbeats shook him slightly, and his breath had a rusty sound in his open mouth. After a long time he started forward, into the light. It struck him, hurled him back numbed and dazed. Thinking of Mouse, he tried it twice more before he was convinced. Then he tried yelling. His voice crashed back at him from the unseen walls, but the sleeping boy never stirred, never altered even the rhythm of his breathing. After that Ciaran crouched in the awful laxness of impotency, and thought about Mouse, and cried. Then, quite suddenly, without any warning at all, the wall of light vanished. He didn't believe it. But he put his his hand out again, and nothing stopped it, so he rushed forward in the pitch blackness until he hit the stone arm of the cross. And behind him, and all around him, the light began to glow again. Only now it was different. It flickered and dimmed and struggled, like something fighting not to die. Like something else.... Like the sunballs. Like the light in the sky that meant life to a world. Flickering and feeble like an old man's heart, the last frightened wing-beats of a dying bird.... A terror took Ciaran by the throat and stopped the breath in it, and turned his body colder than a corpse. He watched.... The light glowed and pulsed, and grew stronger. Presently he was walled in by it, but it seemed fainter than before. A terrible feeling of urgency came over Ciaran, a need for haste. The words of the androids came back to him: Failing, as we judged. If we finish in time. If we don't, none of it matters. A shadow across the world, a