Ryn winced as the side of his head throbbed. He put a hand to it, finding a swollen bump.

He groaned and sat up.

He was in a dark, cramped cell, about ten paces across.

In the darkness images assaulted his mind: the rooftops of his hometown ablaze; his mother being run through by an imperial general’s blade; the last breath leaving his father’s lips.

He gave an agonised moan.

“I can’t get you out of here,” said a woman’s voice.

Ryn started and swivelled. A woman with pale blue eyes. They glowed, illuminating the cell a little. He must have been hit on the head very hard.

“I didn’t say that you could?” he said, his voice hoarse. It was an odd way to greet someone.

“I know,” said the woman. Girl? “But you were going to ask. My name is Nuthea, by the way.”

Her hair golden hair fell to her shoulders. She was beautiful, with proud cheekbones curling in towards a smooth chin. She wore a white dress inlaid with patterned gold thread, which she filled amply in certain places and which was slender in certain others. Woman, definitely woman, not girl. A weak amber bar built into the ceiling of the cell gave her a faint halo, but her eyes really did glow, like snow reflecting sunlight.

“It’s because I’m Crystal-touched,” said Nuthea.

Ryn got to his feet, rubbing his temples. “What is?”

“Why my eyes glow like this,” said Nuthea. Her voice was authoritative, patronising. She sounded...rich. She crouched and began to poke around with a finger in the dirt of the cell floor, the light from her eyes dimly illuminating it. “You were about to ask. ‘Crystal-touched’ means I’ve had contact with one of the Primeval Jewels. I assume you know something about those or else the Empire wouldn’t have captured you. Not everyone’s eyes glow who’s touched one of the Jewels, but they do if you’ve touched the Lightning Crystal.”

Primeval Jewels? What was this girl talking about?

“Oh, you don’t know?” said Nuthea.

“Know what?”

“I suppose I could educate you… The Primeval Jewels were made by the One at the dawn of time and buried deep in the earth.”

She spoke in a voice like Ryn’s schoolmistress, only even more self-assured, if that were possible.

“The Jewels are as old as Mid itself,” Nuthea went on. “There are twelve of them—one for each of the twelve Great Peoples of Mid. If you touch one of the Jewels it gives you power over the Element it is associated with. Twelve Jewels, twelve Peoples, twelve Elements.”

Nuthea pointed at the symbols she had drawn in the dirt of the cell floor as she listed the Elements.

“Water.” A swirling spiral. “Earth.” A line that turned in on itself to form a square. “Fire.” A little flame. “Air.” Three wavy lines. “Lightning.” One bolt in three lines. “Metal.” A rhombus. “Light.” A star. “Shadow.” A simple circle. “Moon.” A crescent. “Life.” An asterisk. “Spirit.” A triangle. “Void.” For void she had drawn nothing at all.

Ryn felt like there was something he needed to remember, something just on the edge of his mind …

Mother. Father. Hometown. And...

“And where are these Jewels?” he said.

Nuthea turned her glowing eyes on him. “Weren’t you listening? Do try to keep up. They were buried deep in the earth. Although most of them have been found, true, so I suppose your question isn’t completely stupid. Some are still in the possession of their respective peoples. Like my people, the Manolians,” she said proudly, holding her head high. “Some have been hidden. Some have been lost. It would seem that the eEmperor is now seeking to obtain them.”

Twelve Great Peoples? Primeval Jewels? Ryn had never heard of any of these things before. He was just a simple boy from Cleasor whose only ambitions, until very recently, had been to one day take over his father’s farm, make a good living, go exploring in the woods on seventhdays and maybe somehow get his crush, Carlotia, to take notice of him.

“And what do these Jewels look like?” Ryn asked.

“Well, nobody knows what all of them look like, of course, but according to legend they are…” Nuthea pointed at the symbols she had drawn one by one. “The Water Sapphire. The Earth Emerald. The Fire Ruby—”

Ryn gasped, making Nuthea pause. He had remembered. He put a hand to his breast but all he felt against his pocket was his chest

“No!”

Nuthea stood, her eyes seemed to glow more brightly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“No!” Ryn cried again, clutching his head. “My father, just before he—he gave me a ruby. He told me to keep it safe. I put it here in my pocket but it’s gone. I’ve failed him!”

“Oh…” said Nuthea. “I am sorry that you lost your father.”

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“No, you don’t understand,” Ryn said, starting to pace. “Back in my hometown, one of the soldiers tried to kill me… and… fire came out from me and burned him up! The ruby, it must have been this ‘Fire Ruby’ you’re talking about!”

Nuthea’s eyes stretched wide. “Yes, it was the Fire Ruby. You are Ruby-touched. But of course you don’t have the Ruby any more. They would have taken it before they threw you in here.”

“How long have I been in here? Where is here?”

“You’re in an Imperial cell. You were only in here about ten minutes before you woke up. May I ask… were any other people killed in the Imperial attack, in addition to your father?”

“They killed my mother, my father, everyone in the town. They burned the whole place to the ground.” It didn’t feel real. It felt like it had happened to someone else.

Nuthea put a hand to her mouth. “By the One… I never imagined…” She closed her eyes. “Truly the Emperor will go to any lengths to get his hands on the Jewels. I am so sorry.”

“Why did they leave me alive, if they got what they wanted? Why didn’t they just kill me as well?” Part of him wished they had.

“They want to question you. They want to find out how you got the Jewel and if you know anything more about the others. That’s why they’ve kept me alive too.”

For the first time Ryn considered what this woman was doing in here with him.

“Who are you? How did you end up in here?”

There was a deep, distant groaning sound from somewhere above them and the whole room lurched sideways for a moment.

Ryn put out a hand on the wall, feeling like he was about to be sick. Nuthea swayed where she stood, then stumbled forward, banging heads with Ryn. They collapsed in a pile on the floor, then immediately disentangled themselves from one another.

Ryn was too surprised to pay too much attention to the awkwardness of their collision. “We’re on a ship?!” he blurted.

Nuthea stood and dusted down her dress. “Yes, we’re on an Imperial airship.”

“An airship!”

“Yes, that’s what I said. It must have had to bank to dodge out of the way of something.”

“Can you get us out of this cell?”

“No,” said Nuthea. “Are you slow-witted? I told you earlier. I cannot see the way out. Yet. I’ve been locked in here for what must be at least a week and I haven’t been able to think of a way out.”

She looked pretty good for someone who had been locked in a cell for seven days. Maybe she was exaggerating.

“It’s rude to stare.” She gestured through the dark towards the far wall. “There’s a door over there with a hatch in the bottom which they chuck some bread through sometimes.” She motioned to another corner. “And there’s a bucket over there for… well, it’s not dignified to speak of. You’ll have to turn around and shut your eyes.” At that she made a brief little sobbing sound, like the thought of peeing in the company of somebody else was too much for her, but she put a hand to her mouth to stifle it.

Ryn shook his head. He still couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

Before he could think of what to ask next another tremendous boom sounded and the whole cell shook, sending them both onto their backsides again.

That one hadn’t come from above, but from somewhere off to the side.

“That sounded like a cannonball-blast! exclaimed Nuthea. “Someone’s attacking this ship! But why? Who would be crazy enough to attack an imperial ship over Efstan?”

Nuthea didn’t look scared out of her wits. She was smiling.

“Er… why is it a good thing that we’re being attacked?” Ryn asked.

Another booming noise and the whole cell vibrated again, making them wobble. That one had definitely come from underneath them.

“Because it might give us a chance to escape, dimwit! Try to keep up.”

Another blast. Ryn felt that one in his teeth.

“And just how will it do that?” he asked.

“Don’t you see? I’m the most precious thing on this vessel. (Well, I suppose you might be of some value, too.) If there’s a sky battle, or this ship goes down, they’re going to want to know where I am and keep hold of me. Come on, come with me.”

Ryn followed Nuthea over towards the cell door. The reverberations from another cannonball knocked them from their feet again.

How can she be so calm about this? Ryn thought as he crawled next to Nuthea.

Shouts and the clang of metal came from beyond the cell door. “Why are you so relaxed about the possibility that this ship might go down?”

“Shhhh! Just wait against the wall on that side of the door!”

Too bewildered to protest, Ryn made it to the wall next to the door and stood with his back against it. On the other side of the door, Nuthea did the same. She held a finger to her lips, then whispered, “When they come through, stay out of my way. Let me handle them.”

Ryn gulped, nodded, and braced himself.

They didn’t have to wait very long.

The door flew open and three imperial soldiers in black plate ran into the cell, going straight past Nuthea and Ryn.

“Where are the prisoners?” one of them said. “We need to secure the prisoners!”

They turned round.

“Only three?” Nuthea said. “You Imperials really are stupid.”

She raised her hands and they glowed. The glow lit up her face. Her eyes had doubled in size and her jaw set solid in a look of cold fury. Nuthea screamed as lightning lanced out from her hands, connecting with the soldiers. Three eye-blinks, and the shape of the lightning shifted three times, three different sets of jagged white bolts linking each of the soldiers and Nuthea’s fingertips.

The lightning subsided but the screams didn’t, at least not right away. Each of the soldiers collapsed to the floor, steam issuing from their armour and bodies. The air smelled of burned meat. Nuthea had cooked them in their armour.

“I said it’s rude to stare.”

“That was… amazing…” said Ryn.

One side of Nuthea’s mouth curled up ever so slightly. “Come on, let’s get out of this cell.”

Another cannonball hit the ship with an almighty crash.

Ryn’s found himself on his back, the cell full of sunlight. The sunlight receded as the whole floor began to tilt.

Oh gods. They’ve blown a hole in the cell.

Ryn flailed about and reached for the open door that was quickly moving away from him as the floor tilted further.

Nuthea did the same thing and bashed into him, then bounced off. She cried out in panic.

As the airship continued to tilt, Ryn managed to catch hold of the edge of the door—now an opening in the ceiling above him. For a heartbeat his legs dangled before something caught one of them and pulled down—hard.

Ryn clutched onto the door with all his might. The weight tugged him downwards, but by clenching his fingers and enduring the pain that lanced along his arms he managed to keep his grip.

He cried out as the door swung shut on his fingers but managed to keep holding on. A noise filled his ears; the angry growl of an engine, growing in pitch and volume. This airship was heading for the ground. Fast.

Ryn risked a look down.

Below him, clutching onto his right boot, was the golden-haired form of Nuthea.

She looked up at him, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, mouth a rictus of fear.

“Don’t let go!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Ryn shot back.

Beyond her was the pale blue of the sky and wisps of white cloud hurtling by.

One of Ryn’s hands gave way and slipped off the doorframe. He tried to wrench himself up with his remaining arm to find a better purchase, but it only quivered in painful protest and refused to move him further than half an inch.

Ryn sank back down, his arm fully extending, the muscles in it feeling like they were about to snap.

“I don’t think I can hold on much longer! Get ready, we’re going to—argggghh!”

Air and cloud rushed around them.