It had only been two or three hours, but Saryth already knew he would never be warm again. Snow howled past him, borne on the icy wind, caking his eyelashes and sticking to the fur of his hat and coat. His fingers felt like ice blocks, and he curled them one by one into his palm inside the glove for what little extra heat was there. The bag was a leaden, snow-crusted weight on his back. He’d thought they were too warm, back in Kirmouth. How could he have known?

“Weghschogh bytherb nouih.”

Had Kite said something? She was just in front of him, a dark, bulky figure obscured by the gusting snow. He struggled to catch up, to ask what she’d said.

“Gmmphaurg?”

Kite waved her arm, making another incoherent noise. Saryth squinted into the blizzard in the general direction that she’d waved and saw a dark shape that didn’t move. Kite pushed on towards it and he followed, and gradually it took the form of a grey door with the number “3” on it. It was sheltered by walls which sloped down either side, although the snow had still managed to drift in, settling against the walls. Standing in the meagre shelter, Kite pulled down the scarf covering her nose and mouth.

“I said, we should be there by now!” Then she banged on the door, and it opened, and Saryth began to hope that warmth might in fact exist in this world after all.

Inside the grey door was a grey corridor, made homely by the copious coats and furs hanging up to one side, and the heavy boots clustered over draining slots underneath them. The door thunked shut, cutting off the howl of the wind and leaving flurries of snowflakes to melt and trickle away. Saryth wriggled clumsily from the straps and let the heavy case drop with relief, then pulled his soggy scarf from his face. His fingers tingled with returning warmth.

“Hello?” Kite called. She’d pulled her gloves off and was fiddling with the ties of her hat. A figure came round the corner of the corridor, paused, then came closer with a smile.

“Welcome to Third Camp! I’m Nat. Where are you from?” It was an older man with thick grey hair and a cheerful smile.

“We come from Pyetr,” Kite said. “He sends his regards and a box of goods.”

“Wonderful! Please, leave your outer clothes here.” Saryth hurried to pull off the coat and trousers, which had already started to shed trickles of water where the crusted ice was melting.

“Saryth, can you bring the bag?”

“Do I have to?” He meant it as a joke, but it really was almost the last thing he wanted to do.

“Come this way!” said Nat. “You must be tired. We have food and hot baths.” That sounded like something out of a dream. Saryth hoisted the bag again and followed Kite and their guide down the corridor.

They were led through two doors and down a short flight of stairs before reaching a room with people in. A lot of people, old and young, clustered around a large hearth, talking, laughing, playing. Most were seated on benches that lined the room, but small children were crawling around in the centre, playing with wooden toys. Bright rugs covered the metal floor and similar hangings decorated the walls, making it homely and welcoming. Enticing smells emanated from a large pot over the fire. It was both like and unlike Fiona’s kitchen, but the cheerful faces turned towards the newcomers showed none of the hostility he had half-expected. My hair is still black but... does that matter, in this world? Indeed, several of the children bore locks of white hair at the front, a colouration he’d never seen before.

“Pyetr has sent us some friends,” said Nat. Kite stepped forwards.

“I’m Kite and this is Saryth. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“You must be tired,” said a woman holding a baby. “Come and sit down.” She shifted over to make a bit of space on the bench.

“Have some hot berry juice.” A teenage girl offered a steaming cup.

“Tell us, where have you been?” That was a third woman, with curly hair and glasses.

“We came straight from Pyetr, I’m afraid,” Kite said. “So we have no news from other camps. Saryth, put the bag down.”

“Yes, please put that down and have a seat,” said a different woman holding a different baby. Saryth edged back a bit.

“Are you alright?” Kite asked him, lowering her voice.

“Yes...” He struggled to find a way to explain and failed. “There’s just a lot of people.” He lowered the bag to the floor and rubbed his shoulders to ease the cramp.

“Come on everyone!” Nat clapped his hands. “Leave them alone! They don’t need your chatter right now.” Then he turned to Kite and Saryth. “Do you want to wash before you eat?”

“Yes please,” Kite said, brightening. “Saryth, you go first. Here,” she fumbled in one of her little bags and handed him a tablet. “This’ll help get the dye out.”

“Uh... right. Thanks.” So hair colour doesn’t matter here, then? If only he could talk to her in private, but these people didn’t seem to do private and he didn’t want to ask.

“This way,” said Nat, and Saryth followed. When he looked back, Kite was seated on the bench, smiling and talking with the people clustered around her while others sorted through the open case.

The bath turned out to be a large tub with pipes leading to it, standing in the middle of a small grey room. Everything was grey here, the walls pitted with wear and tear, but somehow it was still a friendly place. Tiles decorated the walls of the bath room, some painted with delicate, intricate patterns, some with what looked like a child’s thumbprints in riotous colours. There was a bench to one side with buckets standing by it, hooks on the wall by the entrance, and a shelf with a medley of bottles on it. The water steamed gently, welcoming.

“We’ll have some clothes for you when you’re done,” Nat said, and let the curtain fall. The sudden quiet was a relief.

Saryth undressed and scrubbed himself thoroughly with a large cake of soap he found on the shelf, then rinsed down with water from the tub. His hair was more of a challenge, but he managed to wash the dye out using the tablet Kite had given him mixed with hot water in the largest bucket. At last he felt clean enough to soak in the tub, his tired muscles relaxing in the heat. Despite his best efforts, he thought the water had gained a grey tinge from the remnants of the dye, but the tub itself was greyish so it was hard to be sure.

Mindful that Kite also wanted to wash, he didn’t spend as long in the bath as he wanted. The promised clothes were warm and soft, a long-sleeved loose top, trousers and underclothes, all made from unfamiliar fabric. They’d provided slippers but no hair tie to replace the one he’d been wearing, so he rubbed his hair dry as best he could, then let it fall in loose tangles down his back. He’d been worried about losing his way, but the chatter and laughter from the main room was a reassuring guide, at least until he got close enough to overhear what was being said.

“What was the herb you gave him?”

“That was to remove black hair dye,” Kite said. “His hair’s naturally white.” Saryth flinched and stopped moving, a sudden cramp in his stomach.

“Oh, really? Is that because -”

“Yes, he’s a sorcerer.” Kite’s easy reply left him cold again. No, Kite, no...

“Really?” The speaker sounded more interested than anything else. Kite wouldn’t have said that if it was a problem. Saryth made himself breathe, unclenched his fists. He trusted her. I made that choice.

He stepped round the corner and into the room. Kite rose with a smile.

“Oh, Saryth, I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen asleep in the tub.” She put down the cup she was holding and came forwards. “My turn now. Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

He looked after her as she went down the corridor, then back to the huddle of people around the fire. Did she mean...? One of the women holding babies shifted up.

“Here, have a seat,” she said.

Saryth sat down tentatively, keeping as far away as possible.

“Thank you,” he said, but it came out very quietly. He ducked his head to hide behind his hair, stared at the floor, and wished Kite was still there.

“’Scuse me?” He looked up to see a small girl standing in front of him, bright-eyed and excited. “She said you’re a sorcerer, right?”

“Um,” Saryth said, “yes...” The girl beamed.

“So’s my little brother,” she said, and a face wearing a shy smile peeped out from behind her. It was one of the children with white patches in their hair. “I’m Tessa,” the girl said, “and this is Yahan.”

“Um. Hello.” Saryth sat up straighter.

“Please will you show us some magic?”

Kite took her time in the bath, luxuriating in the hot water. When she finally made her way back to the main room, she found Saryth in the middle of a host of children all staring at the illusions he made. Most of the adults were also watching, entranced, and Saryth himself was smiling, relaxed in the company of people who appreciated his magic.

“About time, too,” she said to herself.

Saryth managed to keep up the display all evening, even while eating. When the time came for the children to go to bed, they protested vociferously and demanded he sing the bedtime song to them. Kite watched him go, following Esther, the adult on bedtime duty, and marvelled at the difference a few friendly faces made. She hovered near the childrens’ bedroom, a big shared chamber with the simple pallet beds arranged in rows, each with its own brightly decorated blanket, and listened to Esther singing. After two verses, Saryth joined in. He was not used to singing but he had a good ear, and in any case, they didn’t want him for his voice. An adult sorcerer was a novelty for these people.

“Thank you for that,” Esther said as they left the room, the lights turned down low. “They went quietly tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” Saryth said.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You sang our baby sorcerers to sleep,” said Anna, rocking her own child, as Kite and Saryth entered the main chamber.

“Sorry?”

“The children with the white lock of hair,” said Esther. “They are strong in magic. They are the future.”

“How old are they?” Kite asked.

“Six years, give or take a few months. They were all born close together.”

“There are others at Four and Seven, too,” said Jon, joining in the conversation. “All with white hair locks and odd eyes.”

“You must be very strong if your hair is all white,” Anna said to Saryth, who started and flushed.

“Come and sit down, you two,” said Leon, who was manning the small pot which had replaced the stew cauldron on the fire. “Have a drink.” Kite accepted the cup handed to her and sipped cautiously at the contents. It was hot, tart and sweet at the same time, and warmed her inside as much as the bath had warmed her from the outside. She sat down to enjoy the rest of it, along with the heat from the fire and the gentle chatter of their friendly hosts. She didn’t realise how tired she was until she yawned right in the middle of Esther’s story.

“Oh... excuse me.” She flushed, but Esther apologised immediately.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you’d come so far today. We prepared room A-17 for you, if you want to sleep now.” She pointed in the general direction of the bath room. “It’s past the bath room, second turn on the right, third door on the left.”

“Thank you,” said Kite, handing her cup to Leon. Saryth followed suit. “Good night.”

A chorus of “Good night!” and “Sleep well!” followed them out into the corridors. Room A-17 was just where it was supposed to be.

“Kite?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Kite bit her lip and concentrated on hauling open the heavy door. It was entirely fair of him to ask, but it was so late, and it wasn’t a small question. And I don’t know what I’m doing either. But... I know a lot more than he does. She went into the room, which was small and grey like all the rooms, and had bunk beds mounted on the walls. Like the childrens’ beds, a brightly-coloured blanket was draped over each, lending cheer to the room. She let Saryth pull the door closed while she marshalled her sleepy thoughts.

“Pyetr told me about the children,” she said. “He suggested they might be the result of the sun’s influence.” Pyetr had regular contact with this group, and had got to know them well. Better than perhaps he should have done. Saryth looked puzzled.

“Six years ago?” That had confused her too, at first.

“Suns aren’t limited by space and time quite the same way we are.” She pulled off her jumper and held it up to the light. “Like the light shines through this cloth, so the sun’s influence leaks through space and time.”

Saryth was quiet for a moment, but he hadn’t finished.

“This place seems so desolate. Is it always like this?”

“This is what was left after a disaster,” Kite said, remembering the database entries describing what had happened. It was long enough ago that only the older members of the community would remember more than the immediate aftermath, but the scars would linger in their collective recollection for generations to come. “This world was a prosperous phase two world fifty, maybe sixty years ago. Those children are also the harbingers of a phase shift.”

“You said you’d explain that.”

“Yes, I did, didn’t I.” Kite started up the ladder to the top bunk. “Not now, though, it’s a bit too complex for this time of night.”

“Why don’t they leave here?” Saryth asked. “Go to another world?”

“Because... it’s complicated.” Kite lay down and snuggled into the blankets. “They don’t know about the gateways, or maybe they do, but they don’t really have the capacity to travel like that. Besides, the heart cannot truly rest anywhere but its home. They belong here.”

Saryth sat down on his own bunk.

“Are we going to be here for long?”

“No. I don’t want to spend any longer here than we have to. It’s too cold. We can go on tomorrow.” She reached out to the light switch, then remembered something. “Oh, Saryth?”

“Mm?”

“Anna asked about your strength. Your capacity for magic. You have a lot more than any of those children.”

“Why?” He sounded half asleep.

“Because you come from a world steeped in thousands of years of magic use. They’ve only just begun phase one. I just wanted to say, try not to let it be too obvious.” She switched off the light. “Good night.”

“’night,” Saryth mumbled in the pitch black.

In the morning they found their own clothes clean and folded on a chair just outside the room. To Saryth’s relief, they’d even found his hair tie.

“It’s weird,” he said as he pulled on his tunic.

“What is?”

“This place.” He wiggled his feet into the comfy slippers and pointed at the wall panel with the little toggle that controlled the lights. “It’s a mix of things I can’t begin to understand and things that are more primitive than even my world.”

“They have had to recover from a catastrophe,” Kite pointed out. “If you want to know more, you could talk to one of the older people.” They came round the corner into the main gathering area, and she nodded towards an old lady sat by the fire mending a garment. “Like her, you could talk to her.”

The room wasn’t as busy as it had been the night before. Anna was stirring something in the big pot, her baby in a sling on her back, and a man they hadn’t met before was sitting carving and keeping an eye on the older children who were variously eating, playing, chattering and playing with their food while chattering. Most of the adults must have been elsewhere in the complex. Anna waved her spoon at them.

“Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thanks,” Kite said. Saryth hung back a little, then collected his thoughts and went to sit by the old lady.

“May I sit here, please?”

“Good morning,” she smiled at him. “Please do. I’m Elisabeth, by the way.”

“I’m Saryth.”

“Have some porridge,” Anna interrupted, handing him a steaming bowl.

“Thank you.”

“It’s got some of the cinnamon you brought in it.” There was cinnamon in the bag? Kite had said they’d brought food, and it had been so big and heavy it could have had almost anything in. I suppose they don’t get much chance to get spices and things here, and they’re easy to transport. Except in bulk. His shoulders twinged in remembered protest. He turned back to Elisabeth.

“Um, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Will you tell me what this world used to be like? What did you do?”

“This world... it was beautiful.” She stopped sewing and stared across the room, her gaze far away. “Lots of people lived and travelled in it. It wasn’t cold like it is now, not everywhere, anyway. I worked as a geneticist.”

“Um.. what does that mean?”

“Let me see....” She frowned in thought. “What does your mother look like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, look at Anna and her daughter. They look alike, don’t they?” Saryth looked over to the fire where Anna was talking to a girl of about ten. Both had thick dark hair and round, cheerful faces. Anna’s baby reached out to the girl with a smile and a gurgle.

“Yes.”

“I studied how that works. The mechanisms of inheritance.”

“What about the sorcerers?”

“Oh, that’s not inherited. Well, it may be from now on. But there are no magic-users in the older generations. When I was younger, we thought there was no such thing as magic.”

“Really?” Too many questions flooded Saryth’s head for him to get them all out at once. Elisabeth smiled.

“Your porridge is getting cold,” she said. “Eat up, and I’ll tell you more.”

Nat approached Kite as she finished her porridge.

“You’re not going back the way you came, are you?” he asked.

“No, we’re going on.” Pyetr had told her how this worked, but she still felt uneasy about it. It was skirting perilously close to edge of allowable.

“One of us should go with you to show you the way,” said Nat. “And collect your overthings to return to Pyetr.”

“That would be much appreciated, thank you.” At least he seemed to be happy about the whole thing. He nodded and left, presumably to find a suitable guide, and behind him she saw Saryth, smiling and chatting with the old lady. Saryth, who she’d rescued - sort of - and then brought with her across the world boundaries. Who was coming with her to another world. Who she planned to teach about phase transitions.

I have no right to comment on Pyetr helping these people.

“Saryth,” she called. “We need to get ready.”

“I’m sorry,” Saryth said to Elisabeth. “I have to go now.”

“Here,” she said, and held out her hand. In it was a small rectangular thing about as thick and long as his forefinger, and twice as wide. It was made of an odd black material which wasn’t metal or wood, and looked almost featureless.

“What is it?”

Elisabeth pressed the top of the thing and it produced a round metal prong from one end.

“It’s a book,” she said. “Well, a lot of books, actually. I bought it for my niece’s studies. She died fifty years ago, so it’s no use to her now.” She picked up the thing and pushed the prong back inside the rest of it, then held it out to Saryth. “I would give you my books, but they’re heavy. And I still hope they might be useful to us. I know you are going.. elsewhere. We’re not stupid. So, somewhere, you may find the equipment you need to access the information on it.”

“Thank you.” Still bemused, he picked up the strange device. Maybe Kite will know how to use it.

“You’re welcome. Safe travelling.”

He got up and hurried after Kite, who had already started for the entrance.

“We need to leave now if we’re to make the next gateway before night,” she said. “Oh, what’s that?”

“It’s books,” Saryth said. “Elisabeth gave it to me.”

He had rather dreaded putting on the heavy clothes again, but not carrying the bag made it much easier. Their guide, Rina, was a teenager whose hat was decorated with ears, as though she were a cat. She looked quite happy about going out into the bitter cold.

“Thank you,” Kite called to the crowd who had come to bid them goodbye.

“Safe journey!” they called back. “Thank you! Goodbye!” Several of the children shouted “more magic!” and “Saryth!”

It made him feel funny inside, almost like he didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t find the words he wanted, so he just waved and smiled, and then pulled his scarf up and followed Rina and Kite into the snow.