Yet Orlith was pleased when he was able to sense beyond the rose-garden wall that in the kitchen garden a row of carrots had been pulled … there was a gap where five days before there had been a row of living plants.

“You have indeed made progress, Sir King. Now try to reach the King’s Grove trees … do you feel them?”

“Yes,” Kieri said without hesitation. “All I have to do now is reach out.”

“Good. Then let us see if you can distinguish them.” He handed over a polished stick. “Only one of the King’s Grove trees is kin to this … can you tell which one?”

Kieri held the stick, admiring the gold and dark grain. “What is it?”

“Later. For now I want you to feel your way to the parent tree.”

Kieri had no idea how to match the wood in his hands to his taig-sense connection to the trees … but the taig itself, he thought, might help. He imagined the stick as a tiny child looking for its parent … and as if that were true, one of the trees reached out. His hand tingled, and then he knew.

“Sunrising side of the circle,” Kieri said.

“Could you put your hand on it?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent! Try this one.”

Dark wood, the grain barely visible. Kieri was sure it was blackwood, but he said nothing and let the taig lead him. This time it was faster; he opened his eyes and said, “Summerwards, two trees into the grove from the circle.”

Orlith blinked. “Amazing. That is, indeed, the location of the tree. We will try one more—it is the traditional test—but I expect you will have no problems with it.” He handed over a stick of wood with red and black grain that glittered a little in the sunlight.

“Fireoak,” Kieri said. He had no need to ask the taig; it wrapped itself around and through him, and he and the tree both regarded the wood that had once been part of a particular limb on its sunsetting side with pleasure. He told Orlith; the elf nodded, smiling now.

“Well done indeed, Sir King!” Orlith stood and bowed. “It is enough for one day.” Then he was gone in an instant, and Kieri realized that he had never answered why the Lady had not come, nor if she would.

Another chance gone. He wondered when Orlith would come back or if he even would.

Even as he stood up, one of his Squires appeared in the garden door.

“Pardon, Sir King—”

“Yes?”

“Master-trader Geraint Chalvers to see you—you had asked him for a quarterly report.”

“Yes, of course.” Master-trader Chalvers, the first merchant appointed to his Council, bowed low as Kieri came into the room. He had a cluster of wood and leather tubes under his arm.

“Sir King, I have the reports you asked for.”

“Thank you, Master-trader Chalvers. Perhaps you would like some sib. I was just about to have another cup.”