Want to know more about The Stolen Child? Here’s a little taste of what’s to come...

They watched in silence as the sun continued to rise. Eventually the Citadel was near enough that she could make out the shape of the buildings, rising up in staggered waves towards the centre of the structure, where a single tower stood far above all the rest. It was so slim and fine that the whole thing seemed to be hanging from the sky on an invisible thread, connected to that needle point. Concentric rings of walls, dotted with towers, rose up like a wedding cake around the outer perimeter. At first she thought the tiered structure looked like a castle, but as it grew in size the sense of scale became clearer, and she began to see that it was closer to being a city.

Below where the island floated, shapes emerged from the desert, the tiered and misshapen skyline of a much larger city, tall spires that reached for the sun and crowded rows of buildings that lined narrow streets and broad avenues. All of it had taken on a warped and misshapen appearance. Sand had built up in great waves around the base of the buildings, and most of the structures had a twisted, half-melted look to them.

The city below gleamed in the dawn light, but the Citadel itself shone like the sun. The dazzling rays of sunlight reflected off every wall, as if every surface was a mirror. As the distance closed, Arsha finally saw that every part of the Citadel, from the lowest edge of the outermost walls on upwards, appeared to be some kind of clear stone or crystal, tinted aqua green like jade. She drew a sharp breath as the realisation set in. It was made of glass. Every part of the Citadel, every brick and stone, was made of glass.