‘Once again,’ Finn continued, ‘I thank you for allowing me to chronicle your rise to greatness. I am sure you have many matters to attend to, and so I will keep these visits short. Please, continue doing what you were doing before I arrived. May I begin by taking note of your description?’

‘Whatever you think best.’ Palemon turned back to the window, staring out to sea, in the direction of the Lost Souls, the peaked islands that marked the sunken city of Aleuthea.

‘Close to seven feet tall,’ Finn said softly, ‘with eyes like coal – eyes that can penetrate a man’s flesh to peer into his soul. Scribe?’

With a start, Chloe remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She swiftly unrolled the papyrus, looking around for somewhere to work before finally seating herself on the floor. She took two small clay pots out of her satchel and set them down on the ground, the first containing water, the second pigment. Taking a reed, she dipped it in water and then rubbed it over the powdered coal.

She wrote as Finn elaborated, describing his subject’s virtues. Her hand moved furiously, and Chloe silently thanked her father, Aristocles, for insisting that she study at the temple.

Palemon suddenly turned. ‘The king of Xanthos tells me that recently wildren roamed the seas, the land, and the skies, but that this is no more. Tell me, chronicler, is this true?’

Chloe fumbled, making a mistake in her work. As soon as she heard that Dion had given Palemon information, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at him. But he made no sign at all, still sitting slumped and dejected, staring at the ground. Her heart reached out to him as she thought about how hard it must be for him to give Palemon the knowledge he wanted without betraying the people he loved.

‘Yes, Great King,’ Finn said. ‘The eldran king, Eiric, blew the horn, and—’

‘What name did you just say?’ Palemon’s eyes flashed. He glanced at Dion, and then rounded on Finn. ‘Did you just say Eiric?’ He marched over to Dion and put his fingers under his captive’s chin, lifting Dion’s head. ‘This one told me his name was Triton.’

‘Triton is correct, Great King,’ Finn said hurriedly. ‘He has one eye, and leads with a strong hand—’

Palemon let Dion’s head fall as he turned again to Finn. ‘Then why did you say Eiric?’

Chloe knew Finn well enough to see the tightness in his eyes. Even so, his manner was still poised and confident, despite the danger they were in.

‘Eiric is the Ilean name for him,’ Finn said. ‘In their ancient language, it means “He with One-Eye . . .”’