The sound of feathered wings close to his head caused him to look up and then duck as the crow flashed past. Despite the creature’s speed, he caught the flash of green in its eye. Lann watched as the bird banked in an arc around the stones once, and let out a loud caw before dropping down into the circle and out of Lann’s eyeline.

Intrigued, he walked in the direction the bird had taken, his feet moving soundlessly over the ground. Indeed, with the exception of the crow’s calls, there was no sound of any kind in this place.

He rounded the nearest stone and stood at the edge of the giant circle. He was only half surprised to discover that the black-feathered bird was no longer there and that a woman had taken its place.

When she smiled at him his heart clenched. She looked very much like his aunt, but her eyes were wider, her lips fuller. Long hair the colour of polished copper hung down to her shoulders, where it came to rest on the black, heavy woollen cloak she wore, fastened on one side by a silver brooch in the shape of the bird that had preceded her. And he knew – knew in his very bones – that this woman was Lette, his birth mother.

Lann went to call out to her, but no sounds would form, and when he tried to enter the circle and go to her, he found that his way was blocked by some invisible force. He instinctively knew there was no point struggling, and the sad look she gave him confirmed he was not permitted to enter this place at this time.

She put her hand up to her lips and kissed the tips of her fingers, silently blowing it towards him. That smile again on her face, she reached for something on her arm and—

‘Wake up, Lann,’ Fleya said, shaking him gently out of that world and back into his own.

Opening his eyes, he stared into a face that was almost identical to the one he’d just been dragged away from. ‘I had a dream,’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘About my mother.’

‘Lae Fetlanger?’

He shook his head. ‘No, my real mother. Lette.’ He recalled the kiss she’d blown him from her fingertips, tears of happiness and sadness welling up in his eyes as he did so.

The look Fleya gave him mirrored his emotions. ‘I wish I had shared your dream.’ She sniffed and turned her head towards the morning sun. ‘We must be going, I fear we have another long day in the saddle ahead of us.’

After a short ride of no more than an hour, Lann spotted the circle of stones from his dream. Reining his horse to a stop, he stared across at it, his pulse racing at the sight.