‘I told you I was older than I looked,’ the witch said with a smile. As she did so, the young Fleya seemed to shine through again, and the older version faded into the background. ‘Now you can see the world as Lann and I do, Princess Astrid.’ Her gaze went past the girl towards the stone circle. ‘I would spend a moment here. With my sister.’

Understanding that his aunt needed to be alone, Lann gestured for Astrid to join him on the other side of the perimeter.

Alone, Fleya approached the spot where the armlet had been left. Taking a shuddering breath, she spoke to her sister.

‘I need you to forgive me, Lette,’ she said, fighting back the emotion that threatened to take over. ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I had no right to say the things I did when you told me you were with child. I was scared. I was scared for you …’ She paused and took another deep breath. ‘But if I’m honest, I was more scared for myself. I didn’t want to be left on my own.’

She pictured her beautiful sister. Her favourite memory of Lette. Of them playing together in the snow, laughing and screaming as they threw snowballs at one another. They must have been about eight years old at the time, not long before they were sent away by their mother to learn the Art. Lette had got chilblains that day, and Fleya had held her hand as their mother rubbed the blood back into her feet, chiding them both for being silly and staying out too long in the freezing temperatures. Despite the pain their mother’s ministrations caused her, Lette had smiled back at her sister throughout.

She wiped at the tear that slid down her face. ‘I was wrong. You knew the truth I refused to see. That you were not leaving me alone. You left Lannigon behind in the world with me. And I have tried to do as I promised the day he came into this world. I have tried to keep him safe.’ She shook her head. ‘But now, after all this time, I seem to be doing the opposite – I find myself leading him towards danger. I can’t keep him hidden any longer. The gods themselves have interfered with the path his life is taking, and try as I might, I can do little to stop them. He is like you and I: a leaf blown hither and thither on the breath of the gods.’ She let out a little sigh. ‘I miss you, sister. I miss you every day.’

As she turned to leave, something made her pause. Looking up, she smiled and then laughed as a black feather fell through the air in a graceful spiral towards her. She reached out her hand and allowed it to land on her palm, the feather brushing her skin with the softest of kisses.