Tal Eko held the orb of blue stone and sensed its resonance with the eye in the middle of his forehead.

  Tenter, his ancient archivist, stood on the other side of the workbench. The tiny homunculus was white as a stick of chalk. “That one has strong properties.” It’s squeaky voice was like that of a child. "Did you do what you wanted to?"

  "All that needed to be done in the time I have."

  “I found this.” Tenter handed an old book to Tal. “It’s about the blue base.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Fourth floor along the third aisle.”

  “Interesting, thank you. ”

  Tal Eko’s second in command, Jantar arrived and saluted by raising his palm to his forehead. “Chief!”

  His commander wore a shirt and trousers, with a sword and dagger on each side of his belt. A deep tan highlighted the man's blue eyes and black hair.

  “Jantar, how is the plan to move going?”

  “I have good news. We have all the wagons we need to take your things to Trazia. Ten wagons, Tenter has been seeing to the loading. ”

  “That sounds like there should be enough,” Tal Eko replied.

  He took a parchment from a shelf with a map of the city and looked at it. “I’m looking forward to seeing the Palace.” It was exciting to think about arriving at the Old Great Place, which represented something very special for him.

  “See that my things are packed and ready to go. Tenter will be coming with us tomorrow.”

  He tried to recall everything he needed to take, and went to a side chamber where he kept tools, books and minerals.

  He would move his things and reassemble the workshop in Trazia where there would be new rooms to house his things.

  His chamber walls were lined with old books, with brittle leather spines cracked with age, each volume a repository of knowledge from the time of the old ones. He ran his index finger along the row of titles. These texts contained knowledge of Eko-crafting. He pulled out only those that he wanted to take, his mind calculating their weight against their potential value for his work ahead. Tenter, ancient archivist, moved about, occasionally recommending a volume with a squeak of enthusiasm. “On the Purple base?. The old ones used purple crystals to great effect!” Tal nodded, adding it to his growing pile, his thoughts already arranging the knowledge into practical applications

  The vault at Trazia was vast and dug deep beneath the ancient city. It's vault contained complete sets of crystals. The ancient archivists there had arranged the collection of artifacts with precision. Tal looked forward to walking through these halls. That vault represented not just wealth, but the wisdom of the old civilization.

  He worked into the night along with Tenter with the oil lamps lighting the chamber. The air grew thick with the scent of aging parchment and stone dust as the hours passed. To their surprise, they were disturbed by intruders in the early hours of the morning. He had to summon guards to deal with them!

  Next morning they were ready to leave.

  The caravan of ten wagons were assembled in the shadow of the massive natural rock tower at the head of the Sacred Valley. The temperature in the early morning was cool enough to make him shiver and he pulled his cloak tighter.

  Jantar had packed his belongings into the lead wagon and he sat in it with Tenter and Jantar the driver in the front.

  There were twenty riders along with the caravan that served as guards should they be attacked en route, which was unlikely but a potential risk given the value of the cargo.

  The wagons groaned under the weight of books, tools, and carefully organised mineral samples. A massive Honth stood harnessed to each wagon, their reptilian scales shimmering in the morning light, while their eyes blinked slowly as they all waited patiently. The air was filled with the low rumble of their breathing and the creaking of harnesses.

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  “Move out!” Jantar shouted.

  The wagons lurched into motion with the groan of wooden wheels and the calls of the Honth drivers. They headed east along an old road, its surface rough through lack of use. The creak of wheels and the heavy tread of the Honth echoed off the cliffs of the Sacred Valley.

  “Jantar, have you caught those intruders?

  He had been surprised the two intruders had got so far inside and had nearly reached the Vault. What had they seen? What did they know?

  His second in command did not reply straight away “No, Chief, they have not been caught.”

  “How many men are seeking out the intruders?”

  “Ten.”

  “Who is in charge of the search?”

  “Neve. He's our best tracker.”

  “Get word to him that I need to make sure they don’t reach any colonial settlement.”

  “Tenter piped up. “Ascended One, killing them could provoke a war with the colonists.”

  His small white companion had a point. “Make sure there is no evidence that can be traced back to us.”

  Jantar called one of the riders over and told them to find Neve and give him the orders.

  As the rider galloped away, Tal Eko watched the dust cloud rise behind the hooves.

  The intruders were a threat that needed dealing with.

  Time passed and the landscape began to become even more rugged. They were passing through an area of badlands, where the wind had carved the rock into strange, twisted shapes. The air grew warmer, and the smell of dust and hot rock filled their nostrils. The Honth, their scaled hides reflecting the heat, began to pant, their great sides heaving.

  The track became steeper and more difficult. The wagons lurched and swayed, and the drivers had to use all their skill to keep them on the narrow track. As the caravan progressed slowly along he track he allowed his mind to wander. Tal imagined Trazia as the place where the three tribes were united as one together, the great arena packed for the Games, a roar of acclaim vibrating from the crowd. Every stand would hold people from the three tribes. The Wardens, the Burners and the Thirsttakers would sit together, their voices raised as one.

  He saw himself as their guide, a man who would return them to greatness! But the image faded as the reality of the task came back to him. The three tribal leaders were very proud men. There was a deep rivalry between them.

  He could not simply command them. That would be a very bad strategy indeed.

  He would have to persuade them. Somehow or other he would have to get them to put aside their differences and unite.

  The groan of the wagons and the steady footfalls of the Honth suddenly broke. A sharp crack echoed through the canyon, followed by a chorus of angry shouts from behind.

  His thoughts of the Games vanished.

  A rider rode alongside and spoke to Jantar. “Sir. There is a problem with the third wagon. It’s wheel is stuck.”

  He turned to look back and saw there was a wagon blocking the road behind them. The first two wagons could move on but the third and those behind it were held up because the route was too narrow for any wagon to pass the disabled one

  He got out and strode past the second wagon toward the commotion. The third wagon, the one carrying the largest chests of rare minerals, was tilted at an angle. It's rear right wheel had sunk deep into a narrow, rock-lined rut. The ground around it was a hard and rocky.

  Two men already strained at a thick rope lashed to the axle, their faces red and sweating, sandals skating on loose dust. The wagon’s driver flogged the Honth, but the beast could only lock its heavy feet.

  “It’s no use!” one of the men yelled, letting the rope fall slack. “The whole wheel is pinched. We can’t get pull it out.”

  Frustration was something he disliked and the sun was already climbing high. All the time he spent stuck in this place was lost and he did not have the time to spare.

  Tal Eko shouted. “Stop whipping the beast.” The driver lowered the whip. Tal walked to the back of the wagon and looked at the wheel wedged deep in the ground. It was the weight of the rock samples that was carrying that made this wagon so heavy and it was obvious it needed to be much lighter if they were going to get it out.

  He turned to Jantar who was beside him. “Get everyone back here! We're going to unload this wagon.”

  Jantar rallied the crewmen and women from the caravan. They formed a line from the wagon to a clear patch of ground nearby and began to pass the heavy chests, one by one. Even with twenty men, the work was hard in the midday heat.

  With the wagon finally emptied, Tal approached the trapped wheel again. He knelt, placing his palm on the sun-baked rock that framed the deep rut. He closed his two eyes and let the third eye see instead. He studied the place where the rock pushed back against the wheel, holding it fast.

  “Bring a pry bar,” he said.

  He was given a bar and guided the tip into a gap between the rock and the wheel’s rim. He pushed and used his weight to push against the rock. Soon a web of cracks broke out. He worked them with the pry bar, chipping away at the rock until the wheel was clear.

  “Now you can get it out.”

  His men pulled on the ropes and the Honth stepped forwards. With a groan of wood the wheel lifted free and set back on the track.. They reloaded the wagon. Tal went back and joined Tenter at the front of the caravan. Jantar stepped up to the drivers seat.

  "Lets go!" Tal said.

  Jantar stood and waved to the wagons behind. He shouted "Move out!" A crack of the whip and the caravan began moving again.