Braddle Bandock was holding a small metal object when the four humans tapped on the door of his laboratory and strolled in. "Gentlemen!" he cried in his thin, piping voice. "And lady! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

     "We were telling Tom about your discoveries," said Edward, gesturing to take in the room full of ancient artifacts.

     The room was packed full of them from floor to ceiling and Thomas recognised a lot of stuff from Veglia. Items that must have been unearthed by the archaeological team they'd left behind and that the Jules Verne must have brought back while he'd been stranded on Fechlon. Most of the items were surrounded by transparent crystal, shielding the incredibly fragile objects from the rough handling they'd received during their long journey, and most also had little labels attached describing where they'd been found and how far under the ground. Some of them were books, and Thomas found himself wondering what ancient knowledge they contained. What clues they contained as to the long lost civilisation that had created them. The ink was faded almost to invisibility, though, and even after it had been restored there were bound to be concepts and nuances of language that not even the best translation spells could unravel. It would be a long time and a lot of careful study before the books finally gave up their secrets, for the first time in the Gods alone knew how many thousands of years.

     "You discovered that the Citybuilder and Ringbuilder civilisations have something in common," continued Edward.

     "Well, we don't actually know that," said the nome, but with a pleased grin. "It could just be a coincidence, you know."

     "What could?" demanded Thomas. "Do you think that the Citybuilders and the Ringbuilders belonged to the same civilisation?"

     "Oh no no, nothing like that," said the nome, waving his hairy hands at the other wizard irritably. "No, no, everything about them is far too different. Their architecture, their languages. The nature of the artifacts they left behind... No, no, they were quite different civilisations, I'm sure of it."

     "Then what?" demanded Thomas.

     "I was trying to cast an Identify spell. The same spell you used with such spectacular success on the Rossem meteorite. I was hoping to generate images of their civilisation, but although I tried many times, with several senior wizards lending me their power in an attempt to boost the spell, I wasn't able to accomplish anything. Their paramorphic traces have faded too much."

     The other wizards nodded their understanding. "They must be much older than the Rossem meteorite, then," said Tassley.

     "Not necessarily," replied Braddle. "The images of the Rossem ship contained in the Rossem meteorite were created by Rossemian magic, which might not have been affected by the conventional magical fields to which they would have been exposed during its time on Tharia. We can draw no conclusions about its age at all."

     "But you did learn something from the Citybuilder and Ringbuilder artefacts," pressed Thomas, eager to get the discussion back on track.

     "Yes indeed," agreed the nome. "I couldn't recover any actual images, but I was able to make an educated guess regarding the age of the oldest paramorphic traces. That, as you know, gives us a good estimate as to when the artefact was made, and the age of the youngest artifact tells us how long ago the civilisation fell."

     "They both fell at the same time!" gasped Thomas in astonishment. That had to be what he was leading up to.

     "Around the same time," agreed Braddle. "It's impossible to be precise without conjuring a Power and asking it directly..."

     "Which the Director would never agree to," pointed out Karem. "Such a dangerous summoning is only authorised during times of crisis."

     "Indeed," said the nome, scowling at the interruption, "which is why we cannot pin it down closer than a few centuries. Both civilisations collapsed sixteen thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred years, but that could still mean that one collapsed nearly a thousand years before the other."

     Thomas was shaking his head, though. "No, it's too much of a coincidence. What, a few centuries over sixteen thousand years? I'd lay money the same event destroyed them both, at the same time. Some catastrophe so terrible that it destroyed civilisations in two separate universes. Maybe it was the creation of the portal that caused it. The opening of transdimensional gateways are often accompanied by enormous releases of energy, aren't they?"

     "I think we're entering the realm of pure speculation now," said the nome, however.

     "Maybe not," said Tassley. "Look, both civilisations had the ability to cross wide stretches of empty space, didn't they? They could both have reached the portal, if it had existed back then, but you told me you hadn't found a single Citybuilder artifact on Fechlon, except those the Masters took there, and not a single Ringbuilder artifact on Veglia, indicating that the two civilisations almost certainly never came in contact with each other."

     "The Portal could still have been created thousands of years later, though," pointed out Karem. "Long, long after both civilisations collapsed."

     Thomas was thinking, however. "How old is the Rossem meteorite?" he asked. "We now know that the Shipbuilder civilisation lies on the other side of the portal..."

     "It's difficult to date Rossemian magic," said the nome thoughtfully. "We can't pin it down better than fifteen to twenty thousand years, and its true age may be a little outside that range. All we can say for certain is that the portal definitely existed fifteen thousand years ago, but for how long before that, we can't say."

     "So we haven't really got anything!" cried Thomas in exasperation. "Just a lot of coincidences and possibilities."

     Edward nodded. "If we had a third fallen civilisation which we could date to sixteen thousand years ago, that would make your theory a lot stronger. We'll have to wait until the Jules Verne's explored a few more planets."

     "Maybe not," said Thomas, however, a look of dawning excitement on his face. "Maybe there's a fallen civilisation a lot closer to home. Right here on Tharia, in fact."

     The others stared at him. It was well known among the educated classes that other races had occupied their world long before the coming of humanity, but they had all been dated to be far older than the period they were interested in. The most recent, the G'Toff civilisation, was over two million years old, and after their disappearance the world was thought to have been empty until the coming of humanity, whose oldest archaeological find was two thousand years younger.

     "What do you mean?" asked Tassley therefore. "What civilisation are you talking about?"

     Thomas explained about the ancient artifacts discovered by the young rak Gannlow three thousand years before. He said nothing about his acquired memories of Tak, not wanting to open that particular can of worms right now, but instead said he'd read about it in an old document.

     "They contained images of a mighty civilisation similar to the Citybuilders and the Ringbuilders," he said. "A human civilisation. I think humanity has been on this world a lot longer than anyone suspects, and that, long, long ago, our ancestors had a civilisation based on natural philosophy rather than magic. If we could find some trace of that civilisation, if we could find some artifacts and date them, I'd lay big money that it fell sixteen thousand years ago."

     "Perhaps the trogs have found something," suggested Tassley hopefully. "They're always digging up old bones and stuff."

     Edward nodded. "We could ask them, see if they know anything..."

     Thomas was shaking his head, though. "The rak who possessed the diary artefacts lived on Garon," he said, "so that's where the ancient civilisation must have been, but there are no trogs on Garon. Never have been." He frowned thoughtfully. "He said he found the artifacts near a city called Agromay. That's the place to look."

     "Who said?" asked Karem, staring at him closely.

     "Er, the rak, in the document I found. Does anyone know of a place called Agromay in Garon?"

     They all shook their heads, but Braddle went off to fetch an old atlas; a huge, ancient book that he could barely carry and that he dropped onto the table with a sigh of relief. It creaked loudly as he opened it and its pages were as thick as cardboard, brown and crinkled with age. It was so old that it still showed a remnant of the Agglemonian Empire squatting to the north of Great Lake Megra, plus a scattering of little countries whose names Thomas had never heard of strung along the coast of the Great Ocean where the proud and wealthy nation of Haldorn was now to be found.

     Thomas stared in fascination, wondering whether the nome would let him borrow the book some time so he could browse through it at his leisure, but Braddle was turning more pages until he came to the island continent of Garon.

     "Looks like it used to be a rough place," said Edward, noting the delicately calligraphed annotations warning of centaurs, giants, ogres and wild men, alongside the much smaller names of the half dozen countries and their cities that dotted the huge land mass.

     "This book was made by Agglemonians," said the nome, "who, even during the days of their decline, regarded all other countries as barely civilised, and they had historical reasons for having a special dislike of Garon. They probably allowed their prejudices to affect their work." He squinted at the faded lettering. "There's a city called Egromea, in the Kingdom of Epyron. Would that be it?"

     Thomas was staring at the map, though, searching for geographical features that corresponded with his acquired memories of Tak's life. The largest mountain range, the Great Eastern Range, ran along the eastern coast. Once, it had separated human lands from the lands of the Kelns and wars had been fought between the two species in the wide, fertile passes that ran through the mountains. Half way up the island continent ran another range running east to west that could only be the Great Northern Range. The peaks that Tak Eweela had stared at while hoeing the weeds in his father's homestead.

     These were the only features he could identify, though. There was no sign of the Borderlands, where Tak's homestead had been. A forest now grew right up against the flanks of the mountains, and nowhere he looked could he see any sign of the valley in which Castle Nagra had stood. Apart from the mountains, which were simply too big to be mistaken, the map he was looking at bore absolutely no resemblance to the maps that Lord Sapphire had studied along with his companions while they debated the intentions of their enemies and drew plans for battle.

     Map making used to be a very hit or miss affair, he mused, with many large features frequently being little more than guesswork. Only in recent years, as the observers up on Kronos looked down on the planet from thousands of miles up and drew what they saw, were truly accurate maps being drawn, and as he contemplated the errors and inaccuracies in both the adult Tak's maps and Tak's childhood memories he realised that he might never be able to pin down precisely where the events of Tak's life had actually taken place.

     He forced himself to look at the city the nome was pointing at. Egromea. He'd never tried to locate it before, and neither had Tak before him, but it was in more or less the right place, down on the south coast. It was certainly worth a closer look.

     "We ought to ask Kenco," suggested Edward. "He comes from Garon. He's sure to know the history of the place."

     "Where's he now?" asked Tassley.

     "He likes to take a stroll through the gardens," said Edward. "Let's go find him."

     He made a grab for the book but Braddle slid it across the table, out of his reach. "It's much too fragile to move," he said, frowning a warning at the human wizard. "It stays here."

     "Then I'll bring Kenco here," said Edward and dashed off.

☆☆☆

     He returned ten minutes later, dragging an annoyed looking man by the elbow. Thomas recognised him, having seen him about the place now and then, but they'd never done more than nod to each other as they passed each other in the corridors. He had sallow yellow skin, lanky black hair and a long, drooping moustache that hid most of his thin, purple lips.

     "Here," said Edward, indicating the map. "That city there."

     "Thank you for coming," said Thomas. "I hope we didn't inconvenience you..."

     "The possibility didn't seem to bother your friend," said Kenco with a sharp look at Edward. "I am not accustomed to being... hustled in such a fashion."

     "We'll make it up to you, I promise," said Tassley, eying him appraisingly. "In the meantime, what can you tell us about this city?"

     Kenco gave each of them a frosty look, then sighed and bent over the atlas. "Egromea," he said thoughtfully. "That's the old name for the place. It's simply called Gromm nowadays. I've never been there myself but it has a reputation as something of a dump. Used to be an important place just after Garon broke away from Agglemon. Became the capital of its own little kingdom for a while, but then it was absorbed by Epyron and it's belonged to it ever since. That's everything I know."

     He moved to leave, but Edward grabbed hold of him again. "One more thing," he said. "Do you know anything about any old ruins in the area? Old buildings, mysterious artifacts, that sort of thing?"

     "The whole place is an old ruin," said Kenco in renewed annoyance. "Ruins built on ruins, as far down as anyone's ever looked. The place is reputed to be the oldest human city in the world. The oldest records date back fourteen thousand years."

     The other wizards stared at him in amazement and delight. "That's it!" cried Thomas excitedly. "That's the place! Agromay was built on the ruins of an even older city, I'd bet my life on it. A city of a civilisation that fell sixteen thousand years ago."

     "You're crazy!" exclaimed Kenco in disgust. "You're all insane!" He pulled himself free of Edward's grasp and swept indignantly out of the room.

     "I'm going to Agromay," declared Thomas firmly. "Somewhere, deep down under everything else, there'll be evidence to prove my theory. I'm going to find it."

     "I'll come with you," said Edward excitedly. "I'm fed up with missing all the fun while you and Tassley fly around on the Ship of Space. I want a share of the action."

     "I'll come too," agreed Tassley, her eyes wide and shining.

     "Pondar'll never let all three of you go at once," said Karem, however. "One or two of you, maybe, but three, no."

     "He's right," agreed Edward. "I think you'll have to sit this one out, Tass. We'll keep in touch, though. Let you know how it's going." The girl nodded glumly.

     "So, when do we leave?" asked Braddle excitedly.

     "We?" asked Thomas. "You want to come as well?"

     "What's the good of you finding something if you don't know how old it is?" asked the nome. "You can bring back something small, but what if all you find is an old wall? Part of a ruined building?"

     "He's got a point," Edward told Thomas. "We'll need him."

     "Okay," said Thomas, nodding. "Three of us, then. Let's go pack our bags."

☆☆☆

     The expedition turned out to have five members, however. When Lirenna found out what was going on she insisted on going with them.

     "I thought I'd lost you," she told him that evening as they lay together in bed. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again! Where you go, I go!"

     Thomas nodded, pleased that he wouldn't be without her.

     The fifth member of the expedition was a much greater surprise, though. While Thomas was speaking to the Curator of Artifacts and Relics, requesting the use of a flying carpet, Saturn appeared at his elbow. "Braddle Bandock told me of your theory," he said without preamble. "It's interesting and definitely needs exploring. I've decided to come with you."

     "You're taking over the expedition?" Thomas almost wailed in horror.

     "No, no, not at all. It's your theory, your expedition. I'll simply be tagging along. I won't try to interfere, I promise." He turned to the Curator. "We'll be needing two carpets. See to it." He then turned and swept away, leaving the younger wizard staring after him in astonishment.

     It took two days to make all the preparations and make arrangements for their absence, the most difficult, as expected, being Pondar Walton. Junior wizards couldn't just go swanning off whenever they felt like it. Not if they wanted a position to come back to when they returned. Saturn's decision to accompany them added an unwelcome complication, Pondar having a long standing rivalry with the other senior wizard, and for a long time he proved obstinate. His refusal to allow his assistants a leave of absence was his way of demonstrating his independence of Saturn and his way of paying him back for numerous small slights committed over the past several years. He relented in the end, although he made sure they knew that they were doing their careers no good by choosing Saturn's company over his own in this manner.

     The threat didn't worry Thomas, as he was planning to return to Haven soon and had no plans to become a permanent member of the University's staff, but he was worried about Edward. He was relieved, therefore, when the other wizard assured him that he also had no plans to remain in the valley for much longer.

     "I've got folks back home and they're depending on me," he said. "They need all the wizards they can get. I won't be coming back here until the day I retire, and Pondar'll be long gone by then. He has no hold on me. Karem's the only one of us who really has to keep the old fool happy. After the accident that ruined his face, it won't be easy for him to make anything like a normal life for himself out there, in the mundane world. He'll always be an ugly monster, a freak. This is the only place where he can be respected as a colleague and an equal, but only if he has a senior wizard to sponsor him. If Pondar puts the word out on him, it would be very difficult for him to find someone else to take him on."

     "That's why he didn't offer to come with us?" said Thomas, staring in shock. "Poor guy! I never realised... All this time I've known him..."

     "Why do you think he likes you so much?" asked Edward, grinning. "You never treat him as a freak."

     "He's a pain in the arse sometimes though," said Thomas.

     Edward laughed his agreement, but then they remembered where they were and looked around guiltily, suddenly afraid that Karem or, worse, Pondar himself might have been nearby, listening.

     Neither of them were, though, to their relief, but they nevertheless left the building to continue their conversation in greater safety somewhere else.