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Merkhud’s reply was barely more than a murmur.
    ‘I do. I had two sons, once. The first beautiful child died almost as soon as he was born. The second boy was a gift to soothe our hearts and I loved him morethan I have loved anyone…but he too left us, tragically. It was a long time ago and I’ve been lonely and embittered ever since. Turning my back on the many young men who have begged to be given a chance to learn, to train and perhaps take my place one day.’
    No one said anything.
    ‘What’s in this wine, Jhon Gynt? My old gums have not flapped that precious piece of information ever.’
    ‘Physic Merkhud, in truth this must be Torkyn’s decision. I will not force or even ask him to leave us—heaven knows, I am in need of his eyes and hands here. But it’s a grand opportunity for him—much grander than a father dare dream for one of his own.’
    They all looked at Tor who was sitting quietly. He swallowed hard, casting a sideways glance at all the things familiar to him in the room.
    ‘I’d like to go.’
    Merkhud felt a flare of triumph but kept his expression sombre as he turned to the boy’s crestfallen parents.
    ‘May I have a word with your son alone?’
    On the pretext of clearing up his tray Ailsa busied herself in the kitchen. Jhon excused himself.
    Merkhud turned back to the young man whose magic was potentially more powerful than anyone now in the land. A young man who might hold the secret to the Trinity.
    ‘Are you sure you want this?’
    Tor’s brow wrinkled. ‘Yes, Physic Merkhud, I think so.’
    ‘Please, Tor, be very sure about this. It is not a decision to take lightly nor is it one you can easily turn back on once made. If you only think you are sure, then perhaps you are not yet ready.’
    Merkhud’s gaze was hard and unblinking. He had no intention of giving up the boy of course, but he also needed this young man to be committed. It would be no easy adjustment to life at the Palace.
    Straightening up, Tor held out his palm and concentrated on it. Merkhud looked puzzled but took his lead and watched. Soon there was a shimmering above it and a hazy vision materialised of three small spheres in dazzling colours. Merkhud held his breath. He was not mistaken: Torkyn was showing him the Stones of Ordolt.
    ‘Tor.’ His voice was raspy. ‘Where have you found these, boy?’
    Tor sounded as though he was speaking from faraway. ‘I dreamed about them last night, I think.’
    He moved his fingers and the orbs weaved gently around them, their fiery colours glinting and sparkling as they caught some of the candlelight. Then he snapped his hand closed. ‘Do you know what they are?’ His voice was normal again. He was focused.
    Merkhud knew now he had been right about Tor. He lied once more. ‘No, no, I don’t, but they are certainly beautiful. Have you no idea?’ he asked hopefully.
    ‘I don’t. I just know that this dream, your arrival and the way I feel right now all point me to going with you.’
    Tor had already decided he would be taking Alyssa with him too, but he chose to keep this to himself for now.
    The old man sighed deeply. The Host had told the truth. Someone was here to save the land. His search, the first part of his quest which had spanned fruitless centuries, was over.
    Now for the difficult part, Tor told himself. He found his parents sitting quietly in their small room. He noticed—perhaps for the first time—how very sparse it was. There was nothing fancy about this room. It was where hardworking, honest people found their rest and their humble pleasure. Only the bed was soft—his mother loved a soft mattress—other than that the furniture was hard and ever practical.
    The only item of whimsy was a small series of drawings Tor had done as an infant, which his mother had bound into a leather file. They leafed through the primitive pictures from time to time, laughing together. It amused his parents that Tor had always drawn the family as four. As a young child