It hadn't been expected that the ship of space would ever actually land on the surface of a planet, and so no-one had thought that the deck four exit would ever be used, but that day Strong was glad it was there. A section of hull hinged out to touch the boulder strewn ground, and the landing party descended by means of the steps moulded into the inner surface.

     The ship loomed above them like a dark world, a thin crescent lit a dull red by the fiery volcano. Strong stooped to examine the ground and found it to be crumbly rock, lumps of which broke off in his gloved hand and crumbled between his fingers. His feet crunched as he walked, as if he were walking on newly fallen snow. The wind was getting quite strong now, tugging at the thick layers of clothing he wore, and the exposed parts of his face were already beginning to sting with the cold. He stamped his feet and swung his arms around his chest in an attempt to keep warm.

     Saturn was the only one of them who wasn't swaddled with coats and furs. Instead he was dressed just the same as he normally was, in his long, loose robes with their baggy sleeves and the overlarge hood that hung halfway down his back. He must have some kind of magical protection against the cold, the Captain thought enviously. He was holding a polished white marble in one knobbly hand, staring at it as if it were a strange relic of a bygone civilisation, although Strong knew there was a small box of them in the equipment storeroom beside the airlock they'd just used. That box also contained several entire suits of protective clothing, hand weapons, climbing and survival gear, a couple of flying carpets and a locked chest full of gold and jewels for barter. Everything they might want on a strange, alien planet.

     Saturn spoke a few magic words, then tossed the marble into the air. It rose to a height of fifty or sixty feet, then burst into brilliant light. A tiny sun shining above them that illuminated a wide area like full daylight. Strong had to shade his eyes with his hand until they adapted, but then he was able to get his first real look at the planet they were standing on.

     The crumbly rock they were walking across was almost black but glittering with tiny crystals, some of them tinted green or brown. A few yards ahead of them the land fell away into a depressed plain where the lava flow had come to an end. Beyond was a sea of darkness where the light of the sun stone failed to reach. Off to their left was a high ridge. A more recent lava flow that overlay the one they were standing on, while above them the sun stone illuminated the base of the roiling cloud deck. It was uncomfortably like being underground, in a vast cavern far below the surface. It was no place for a man with an active imagination.

     Strong took a moment to examine the underside of the Jules Verne, stooping to slip under its curving hull. In the few weeks it had been in space it had already suffered a few micrometeorite impacts, but he failed to find any that had managed to penetrate the protective wafer cladding, which crumbled to absorb the energy of the impact. It was possible that the ship had suffered a larger impact somewhere, but neither of the two moon trogs aboard had mentioned any drop in air pressure that would indicate that the hull had been pierced. Strong grunted in satisfaction as he emerged and straightened up. So far, the ship was performing well.

     "Okay, let's go," he said, his breath condensing into a cloud in front of him. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be out here one moment longer than necessary." They set off eastwards, the sun stone moving with them to light their way, and they clambered down the rugged incline to the plain below.

     The ground here was smooth and hard. A sheet of obsidian. A sleek, shining black that was shot through with every colour of the rainbow, and Strong mused that it would make a fabulous decorative material. A palace or temple with walls veneered with it would be the wonder of the world. The wind was picking up, blowing in gusts and carrying particles of sand that stung their frozen skin, so he tied a piece of cloth across his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

     Beside him, Wing Leader Winterwell and Private Hawkes were doing the same. Hawkes was a young man, only two years in the service, and still a little stunned at being chosen for the ship of space ahead of many more experienced servicemen. Strong knew what he didn't, though, which was that he'd been chosen because of his family's history of health and fitness. Not one member of his family had suffered from a serious illness in three generations, not even his father who'd been in the city of Caslowe during an outbreak of bloodeye fever. Just luck? Or was there something in his blood that gave him protection against sickness and disease? No-one knew, but he seemed a useful man to take along on a mission into the unknown.

     The land was flat and even, like the surface of a frozen sea, and fissured with networks of tiny cracks as if the rock had been subject to a series of heavy blows. They encountered no major obstructions, though, and made good time until they came to a much larger fissure, ten feet across and disappearing down as far as they could see.

     "Don't get too close to the edge," warned Strong as he searched in vain left and right for an end they could walk around.

     "Maybe we can jump across," suggested Hawkes eagerly. His enthusiasm bothered the Captain a little. The young Private would be keen to prove himself and might take a dangerous risk as a result. Strong would have to find a way to put him at his ease.

     "I wouldn't like to try it," said Winterwell, though. A much more capable and confident man that Strong thought well of.  "Don't forget gravity's a little stronger here than back home. You'll come down sooner than you expect. Besides, I think Saturn's doing something."

     The wizard was holding something in his hand and muttering magic words. The air above the chasm shimmered, then formed into a pretty white stone bridge, the kind that might be seen arching across a small gurgling stream in the picturesque Ilandian countryside. Hawkes laughed in delight, and even Strong was forced to smile. He gestured for Saturn to cross first, then followed, followed in turn by the two soldiers.

     "How long will that stay there?" the Captain asked.

     "Until the next eruption reaches this far, or the sand blown by the wind erodes it away. Creating a permanent structure is easier than creating a temporary one."

     "Why would anyone want to make a temporary bridge?" asked Hawkes.

     "If you're being chased by hordes of spear throwing barbarians, perhaps," suggested Winterwell.

     The going got a bit steeper after that as they found themselves climbing the slope of a low hill. The gravity, slightly higher than they were used to, made it heavy going, and Strong found himself sweating under all his furs, but they soon reached the top where they paused while Saturn examined the valley beyond. He reached a hand up to his eyepatch, and it looked to the others as though he were lifting it up, but standing behind him they couldn't tell for sure. He was chuckling as he lowered his hand again, though.

     "As I suspected, we've come on a wild goose chase," he said, raising his voice to be heard above the gusting wind. "There's nothing here."

     Hawkes and Winterwell relaxed in relief. They weren't going to be ambushed by an angry wizard after all. Strong was annoyed, though. "Then what's causing the magical field we've been following?" he asked.

     "Oh there was something here once. I should have remembered. This was once the stronghold of a rak..."

     "A rak!" cried Winterwell in alarm.

     "It's alright," said Saturn, amused by his fear. "He's long gone. Took his whole castle and disappeared off into the astral plane to explore new worlds and have new adventures. Malefactos was his name. Very powerful, too. We weren't looking forward to having to fight him. We were all greatly relieved when he left of his own accord. Our world was just too small and boring to hold his interest."

     "We'll check it out, just to be sure," said Strong. "Look out for traps and snares. We don't know what he might have left behind."

     "He left nothing behind," said Saturn. "He took everything with him. His whole castle."

     "We'll be careful nonetheless," repeated Strong. "Don't touch anything." He led the way down into the valley.

     Saturn gave the sun stone a command to fly higher and glow brighter, so that it illuminated a greater area although, as he explained to the others, this would reduce its lifetime to only an hour or so. Strong glared at him, angry at him for anticipating his command, but said nothing.

     The whole valley was visible now, the ground under their feet as brightly lit as full Tharian daylight, the bordering hills dimly lit with silver. The hill directly opposite them was sheared off across the top as if by a gigantic knife, and when they climbed up to investigate they found that the exposed top was as flat and smooth as a sheet of glass. This was where the castle had been, Strong guessed.

     "This whole area is saturated with randomised magic," said Saturn. "The residue of a massive plane travelling spell, perhaps."

     "Dangerous?" asked Strong.

     "Not for the brief time we'll be here."

     They climbed back down into the valley and wandered around exploring, although being careful not to stray too far apart from each other. The landscape was completely different from anything any of them had seen on Tharia. On their homeworld, the action of water would have eroded the rock. The rain dissolving chemicals in its outer surface, smoothing it away atom by atom. Running water carving channels and gulleys and freezing in winter to open up tiny cracks that would break large boulders into tiny pebbles.

     Here, though, there was only the windblown sand to weather the landscape, and since the lava flows were fairly recent in any case, the result was a nightmarish landscape of sharp, jagged rocks, each one capable of twisting an ankle or ripping through careless flesh. The four men had to be fully alert with every step they took, or else they would likely as not be carrying one of their number back on a stretcher.

     "The wizard's right," muttered Hawkes, kicking a shard of obsidian with his toe. "There's nothing here. Nothing but wind and rocks."

     "Yeah," agreed Winterwell. "The Captain'll come to the same conclusion in a few minutes and we can get out of here. In the meantime, just look busy."

     He clearly didn't expect Strong to be able to hear him but the denser air carried his words further than he expected and the Captain was forced to smile with amusement.

     "Look busy," chuckled the private. "How do you look busy just wandering around... Hey, Sir, look at this."

     Winterwell looked where Hawkes was pointing and the Captain went to join them. Shards of obsidian, all about the same size, almost hidden by windblown dunes of black sand, had been arranged in a straight line leading directly away from the hill on which the castle had stood. The line of stones disappeared under a large dune a few yards away but reappeared on its other side, and now that he knew what to look for Strong saw another line of stones a few yards away on his left, and another beyond that.

     "By the Gods!" he muttered "Saturn, come look at this."

     The wizard strolled casually over to join them. "Any idea what it is?" Strong asked him.

     "I have no idea what purpose it serves," replied Saturn, "but there's no magical field associated with it. It's nothing more than it seems. A line of stones."

     "But why?" demanded Strong. "Why would anyone go to the bother?"

     "The answer possibly lies at the end of the line." He gestured forward. "With your permission, Captain?"

     "Granted," said Strong irritably, trying to ignore the sarcasm and condescension in the wizard's voice.

     Saturn led the way, scanning the way ahead as he went with both his eye and his magic sense, alert for any nasty surprises that might be waiting for them. Strong walked at his side and the two soldiers followed behind, their hands tightening on the spears they carried although Strong would be pleasantly surprised to come across an enemy vulnerable to their weapons. If a rak had left anything behind, it would more likely be a magical creation of some kind, or a captive demon.

     He looked around at the bleak, desolate landscape. It seemed incredible to think that anyone would choose to make their home here, all alone on a dead world. Even a rak. He must have been a creature who really valued his privacy! On the other hand, though, it was a great place to build a fortress, or a refuge. Maybe he'd had enemies. Enemies so powerful that it was too dangerous even to be on the same planet with them, but what a price to pay for safety. To look out of one's windows and see nothing but roiling cloud and lava flows. No wonder he'd left as soon as he could. He, Strong, had only been here for a few hours and he was already wishing he was gone.

     They were walking up a low rise, and when they reached the top Saturn paused to look down into the hollow beyond. After a few moments he gestured for Hawkes to come forward. "Your young eyes are sharper than mine," he said. "Look down there and tell me what you see." He gestured towards a cluster of boulders.

     Hawkes looked, squinting. Then he gasped in astonishment. "It looks like a man," he cried. "A grey man, dressed all in grey. He's laying out stones on the ground."

     Saturn nodded. "I sense a concentration of magic coming from that direction, but I do not sense the presence of a living man. My guess is that it's a living statue. A magically created being made of rock. Very powerful, very dangerous. I suggest we go no closer."

     "What's it doing here?" demanded Strong. "And why is it arranging stones in straight lines?"

     "I can only guess," said the wizard. "It may be that it contains the imprisoned soul of one of Malefactos's enemies. The laying out of stones would then be a punishment duty. Something that it is bound to do until its body is worn away by erosion. It is probably fully aware of its condition but helpless to escape."

     "But that's terrible!" cried Winterwell. "Can't we do something? Set it free somehow?"

     "That would be foolish and dangerous," replied Saturn. "If it is under a curse, it may be compelled to attack anyone who tries to help it, and even my power would be of little effect against it. If my guess is correct, it's probably resigned to its fate by now. We would be doing it no favours by giving it false hope."

     "I agree," said Strong. "We're looking for the Shipbuilder civilisation and it's not here. I don't intend to waste one moment longer in this hideous place. Saturn, take us back to the ship."

     Saturn nodded and they linked hands in a circle. As he spoke the words of the teleportation spell, though, Strong spared a thought for the poor soul doomed to spend the Gods alone knew how long here, labouring ceaselessly and pointlessly, until the last atoms of his body were blasted away by the wind-blown sand and his soul was finally freed to go to his long overdue judgement. What had he done to deserve such terrible punishment? And what kind of monster could inflict it upon even his worst enemy? Whatever the answers to those questions, it seemed that Sereena was even more like Hell than they'd thought, in that it was indeed home to at least one damned soul, and Strong shivered with horror, knowing that the image of that tiny figure crouched over in the valley below would remain in his minds eye for a long, long time to come.