From then on, Lanna had the duties of a dance instructor added to her already hefty schedule. She also realised how indebted she was to the Haven Islands princess and Orphony. Without them, Ceseed would have pressed to have her expelled from the Hall of Flowers. They had protected her and she didn't know why or what they would ask in return.

After the disaster with Ceseed, Lanna took care not to leave the workshop for anything other than instructing concubines in dance. She found herself terrified of offending the concubines at first, but after a few sessions, those without aptitude left, citing boredom or more pressing concerns.

Those that remained were enthusiastic and enjoyed the two hours of instruction Chowa had allowed Lanna to undertake once a week. The women even practised outside of the sessions. The Haven Islands princess joined for the sessions. Though she hardly spoke she did introduce herself formally as Itzander, third daughter of the king of Haven.

The palace buzzed like a nest of hornets with the impending solstice. The mere possibility the Emperor may pass an edict had the entire palace in a frenzy that the Hall of Flowers whipped into a bubbling froth. The rumours, gossip and counter-rumours made Lanna dizzy. The Emperor hadn't been seen in the women's palace for three weeks. No one knew what occupied him. Chowa had visited him in his rooms at the Hall of Law but remained tight-lipped.

Lanna remained quiet and diligent. She had much to think of. What had happened in Ceseed's room disturbed her. She had felt nothing from the presence since. Did it rest?

She also remained dubious about what Chowa intended, but she didn't trust the presence either. Everyone kept things from her and Lanna didn't know if she should pursue further information.

Chowa had brought her to the palace with a particular purpose; Lanna's work as an assistant was secondary, whatever it may be. Where the presence came into all this though Lanna couldn't say. It was all connected – somehow. It took Lanna two days before the solstice to finally make a resolution. She would pull Chowa's feathers. If the woman blinded her then so be it.

Lanna chose her moment: an evening lesson, writing at the meticulously scrubbed workshop bench, perched on a sturdy stool while she copied poetry. She had a firm grasp of the basics of Imperial now and had expressed an interest in studying poetry to improve her vocabulary.

Lanna liked the short, sweet poems the Imperials took such pride and care in crafting. Tiny little scenes sketched in no more than ten words: mere flashes of mental imagery that, because of their brevity, stayed with the reader long after their consumption. Lanna blew on her ink and carefully set her brush aside on the ink tray, regarding her work with satisfaction. The black characters were crisp, neat and she understood every single brushstroke. A little thrill flushed her cheeks.

The electric light above flickered. Chowa would soon be going to the archive to bring back more tubes. Not even the Emperor had electric light. Lanna had first thought the containers were filled with some sort of glowing formula. She preferred oil lamps, but had to admit the electric light was more comfortable to read by. Her eyes glanced back to her poem.

*Bronto on the path,

Show their visceral grace,

Then disappear*

Lanna could almost see a curtain of swirling snow part briefly in her mind's eye, the dangerous white birds revealed. One looked up, head twisting into the wind, and its jagged beak swivelled in her direction, sharp avian eyes fixed on her. The bird's gaze held suspicion. Lanna admired its powerful legs; the clawed feet that could pierce her skull. The bronto snapped its beak once, then disregarded her. The snow closed in and the moment faded.

Pleased, she brushed her finger over the calf hide and ink with a smile then looked up at the First Chemist. Chowa wore a plain black silk dress, her sleeves tied back with silk cord to keep them from her writing. She rapidly translated something written in the language of the ancients.

The aged paper on her left looked ready to disintegrate if breathed on. Chowa's brush flew over bamboo, her lovely face twisted into an expression of concentration. Black eyes flickered from ancient text to new scroll every few seconds and hair slipped over her shoulder and glowed under the light. Lanna felt envy stir, an unwelcome sting in her chest. For all her faults, Chowa was not only brilliant but beautiful.

Lanna closed her eyes and savoured the sound of brush on wood before she broke the atmosphere of focused quiet.

'Misra, may I talk with you?' Lanna wished her voice didn't sound so weak.

Chowa took a moment to complete a complex character Lanna didn't recognise before putting down her brush and looking up. Her perfect features creased in slight displeasure.

'What is it?'

Lanna decided to yank a whole handful of feathers and see what happened. What was the point in being delicate?

'I know you have a theory on what's wrong with me and you've said you can help. The morning meditations you told me to practise have done something to me. You wish to change me somehow?'

Chowa's expression became carefully neutral; Lanna nearly lost her resolve but forced herself on. 'Since I came to the palace there has been something in my mind, which has become almost like a person. I can communicate with it. It has helped me at times, and I feel no threat from it, yet at the same time, I fear it.'

Lanna placed a hand on her heart and gave Chowa her most earnest look. 'When I feel it, the contact is both terrifying and thrilling. It's as if I recognise it,' she sighed and dropped her gaze. 'What's wrong with me? Why is there something in my mind that isn't me?'

Chowa eased herself back from the table, silent as she regarded her assistant. Lanna did her best not to squirm and clamped her jaw shut. She met Chowa's gaze and hoped, pleaded to her ancestors. The yearning for answers was akin to her cravings for Hemil after they first parted.

Chowa pursed her thin lips. 'You are something I have read about in the ancient texts,' she said at last. 'When I saw you convulsing in the mud of that paddy field, I remembered a reference to such a condition. I came across the information in texts we have from the Augs.'

Lanna's heart hammered. Those evil creatures wrote? Somehow her mind had always pictured them as hunched, bloated and ugly animals bent on conquering the continent.

Chowa gave her a sharp look. 'Can your indoctrinated Southern mind bear to listen to something your ancient enemy recorded?' she asked, almost taunting. 'Your culture has lied to you, Li. It did this because your people needed to survive, but it is a lie all the same.'

Lanna nodded, indicating she would listen, squashing the urge to correct Chowa and defend her people. Nothing was as simple as it appeared. The Empire had taught her that bitter lesson well.

'You have falling sickness, that is evident, but the texts speak of a genetic mutation deliberately engineered just before war broke out.'

Lanna frowned. She didn't know those words.

Chowa smirked and leant forward, resting her elbows on the bench and her chin on perfectly manicured fingers. 'You have a trait in you, which is inherited, and it was the Augs that put it there.'

Lanna shuddered; she was tainted by those creatures? Her throat tightened.

'An ancestor of yours was some sort of experiment. The Augs were trying to breed a particular trait so they could integrate people like you with a certain technology of theirs. They manipulated the very chemicals that make up humans and produced a unique mind, one more open than others.' Chowa shrugged. 'That is as simple as I can make it for you. To explain fully, I would have to train you in human genetics and I have only recently learnt about that myself.' She sat back and released her sleeves from their ties, then straightened her silks.

'We all know humans were once more than they now are, but the information we have lost is staggering. We Imperials call Clanspeople primitives, but in reality, we are all primitives.' She locked her dark gaze on Lanna. 'The archive is degraded and will not last forever. What is stored there will take more than my lifetime to translate and catalogue. I am training Frez to aid me. His loyalty is absolute. In time I may even show you what is there. It is not an experience to be taken lightly, especially for a Southerner.'

She sighed, but continued. 'You are not to be my archivist. You are my means of keeping access to the archives open to myself and the people I trust. For that to happen the Emperor needs to remain in power and I need to remain in his favour.'

Lanna swallowed.

'If the archive is closed, as it has been for hundreds of years previously, then the knowledge will be lost. Ashioto is the only Emperor who has dared to let the archive be opened to anyone outside the Imperial bloodline. The previous rulers of the Empire have mistrusted its contents or been unable to translate the documents.'

Chowa stood and paced as she spoke, her voice falling into a lecturing tone. 'The human race has fallen further into ignorance because of hubris and pride. Ashioto is humble enough to know he cannot access most of what is in the archive and so he enlisted my help. He could have asked others, but the archive contains texts that might be controversial to the overzealous. It would be easy to lose or even destroy inconvenient records.'

Chowa's lips bent into a smile. 'I am not the most devout of my nation. Our Emperor knows and accepts this. What I read is faithfully translated and recorded. I keep a copy and the Emperor has one for his own use, though I believe he sells the texts to the Observists for a substantial sum.'

The chemist moved over to a shelf at the back of the workroom. From it, she pulled down a tiny metal box, which she placed on Lanna's table. She made no move to open the silver cube.

'I had no idea when I saw you in that field if you had the right inherited trait or had another illness. I took the liberty of taking a blood sample while you were unconscious. I could not analyse it until I had access to my laboratory, but I decided to implement a training program as if you did carry the correct genetic combination.'

Chowa slipped her hands into her sleeves. 'Your blood sample confirmed you have the perfect combination of chemicals to make your mind accept this Aug technology. The meditation has quietened the noise of your thoughts to open it further to outside influence, but this has made your falling sickness worse. The human mind can't cope with such stimuli and some of the neural pathways have difficulty in conducting their electrical signals as a result.'

Lanna almost whimpered as the complicated terms fell from Chowa's lips.

'That brings me to this.' She gestured to the cube; as she did so the box flipped open, seemingly on its own. Inside, on a bed of white material, was a tiny silver disk. 'This is what the Augs developed for your mind. Your ancestor was designed to have this in their body. You could say that without this, you are missing your purpose in life.'

'What does it do?' Lanna breathed, her eyes locked on the gleaming metal, her heart still as she caught her breath.

'This concentrates and focuses your brain activity. With this implant you will be enhanced to something beyond normal human capabilities,' Chowa answered, excitement creeping into her tone. 'I will not force you to take the implant. I know how your people feel about the Augs. Also, while the implant will not hurt you, the results are uncertain. The records are vague, but if I surmise correctly, then this device could make you one of the most important people in the city.' Chowa grinned and Lanna lifted her eyes to her mentor, disbelieving the words from her painted lips. 'Emperor Ryoku had an assistant. Records call this person his 'seer'. This seer was a Southerner, and this is his implant.'

Lanna moistened her lips, on the edge of something, but unsure what. The tension thrummed through her.

'The implant was removed on the seer's death and has been passed down the generations in the hope another seer could be found. Over the years, there have been two others. Until recently, no one knew why it was only Southerners with a certain type of falling sickness that could accept the disk. In anyone else, the implant is inert metal.'

The box closed on its own and Chowa returned it to the shelf.

'Part of our immigration policy is designed so that Southerners are welcomed in the faint hope another will become a seer. Immigrants are registered and any illnesses recorded. Emperors with a seer reign long and the Empire prospers from the stability. With the implant, you will become a tool that will protect the Emperor and thus the Empire. Without it, you remain Assistant Li.' Chowa folded her hands into her sleeves once more.

Coals shifted in the furnace, making Lanna jump. The odd tension released her from its hold and she tried to get her breath back without panting. Had she been breathing so shallow? She hadn't noticed.

'It is your decision, but the Emperor listens to you and seems to have taken somewhat of a liking to you. He is not a bad person, but his apathy is harming our nation and he needs guidance. I cannot take the risk that a new emperor will maintain my access. If Ashioto is deposed, the archives may be sealed once more.'

Then Chowa did something Lanna never believed would be possible. She bowed. Not just any bow: she abased herself before Lanna, just as Lanna had done when she'd first met Chowa.

'I ask that you consider becoming the next seer. It will not be an easy task, but I would be forever in your debt, and through my research and your guidance the nation will move forward.' Chowa rose, ignoring Lanna's open-mouthed expression. 'I do not wish an answer now – think on it. I will ask again after the solstice.'

It was then that the presence made itself known. A word forced its way into Lanna's mind.

Refuse.

Lanna hissed and winced. A sharp stab of pain accompanied the word as if to punctuate it.

'That will also stop,' Chowa said with sympathy. 'Your open mind will be focused, and malign influences will be tuned out.'

Lies, the presence whispered. No blinding burn accompanied the word, only the desperate sensation that Lanna wasn't being told the truth, followed by frustration. It was too weak to say more.

'What you hear is nothing but an evil spirit that haunts these halls. There has been much death here over the years. Some do not sleep as quietly as they should.'

Ghosts? Chowa thought the voice a ghost? The chemist didn't seem the type to believe in the restless dead. Lanna's head was full of dark Southern tales of the dead, jealous of the living, taking their revenge for wrongs committed against them in life. But that was all they were – stories. No one believed them.

Lanna clenched her fists, torn, and the emotions of the presence faded into exhaustion. Chowa had said something about it weakening and withering. Was the presence dissuading her through a wish to help or a wish to survive? The bigger question was: did Lanna trust Chowa?

'I need to think about all this,' Lanna said, her voice rasping. Chowa gave a little chuckle.

'I would be angry if you had said anything else.'

Chowa dismissed Lanna not long after that, andLanna went to her mat with her head spinning. Her illness could be turned intosomething great, something useful? The thought elated her and yet the whisperedwarnings of the 'ghost' remained to haunt her dreams.