He was nervous and excited at the same time, so much so that he stumbled over the words as he finally plucked up the courage to utter them.

‘Fleya, I … I need to know something, but I don’t know how to …’ He paused and took a deep breath. ‘Are you … are you my mother?’

The silence that followed seemed to go on forever.

‘Why do you think that?’ she eventually responded. Her voice had a curious quality to it, as if she were struggling to control her emotions. ‘Lannigon, a witch cannot lie with a man. If she does, she will lose her majik. I have told you this.’

The boy pressed on desperately. ‘But you know who my real parents are, don’t you?’

The fire spat and Lann imagined the fiery ember landing on the stone hearth, glowing brightly for a second before finally going out.

Finally the witch spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘I know who your mother is, Lannigon. But not your father.’

‘Who is she?’

‘She was my sister. She is no longer with us.’

The boy waited.

When she spoke again, Fleya’s voice was full of emotion, the love she still felt for her sister clear to be heard in every word. ‘Your mother was beautiful. A woman who would have challenged the goddess Niaffar for her beauty. But like me, she was a witch, and was chaste.’

Fleya continued, and Lann fancied he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘I adored her with all my heart, and we shared many special moments together as only sisters can. You know I have lived on this earth for a long time, and for most of it my sister was a constant presence. And then, about sixteen years ago, she … changed. She became secretive and I suspected she was in love. She denied it, but I could always tell when Lette was lying. I told myself it was none of my business, and that she was free to choose the path of her life. Even so, I was worried for her and what she might be considering.

‘When she told me she was pregnant I was devastated. Lette was so happy, but all I could think of at that time was what she had sacrificed. We argued – something we had never done before – and I said some things I had no right to say. I asked her over and over who the father was, but she refused to tell me. All she would say was that he was unlike any man she had ever met, and that losing her powers was a price she was willing to pay if it meant she could have his child.’

‘What happened?’