Nathair put a hand upon Veradis’ shoulder. ‘Perhaps I should send someone else, it is unfair to ask you to do this.’

‘No,’ Veradis said. ‘You can trust me in this.’

‘Trust you to do what?’

‘Whatever is right. To enforce your will. You are King, your will and word is law.’

Nathair smiled, but even that was a faded shadow of its former self. His eyes narrowed as if he were in pain. ‘If you judge that force is necessary . . . tread carefully. Keep your blade sheathed until all other routes are exhausted. He is your father . . .’ Nathair looked at the palm of his hand, where he traced a white scar. Veradis had one of his own, made the night he and Nathair had sworn their oaths to one another, become brothers bound by blood. Alongside Nathair’s old scar was a new cut, pinked now, healing but obviously fresh.

‘What’s that?’

Nathair stared at the new scar, then looked up at Veradis, emotion heavy within his eyes.

‘Someone comes,’ Alcyon said.

‘There you are,’ a voice called, Calidus and Sumur appearing over the crest of the dell. They marched quickly towards them.

Nathair leaned close to Veradis. ‘It marks a new oath,’ he whispered.

‘A new oath? To whom?’ Veradis asked.

Nathair’s face shifted, emotions crossing it like clouds on a windswept day. ‘Remember what I said, about your father.’

‘Of course,’ Veradis said. ‘Nathair, you are troubling me. What is wrong? What new oath?’

‘It is nothing,’ Nathair said. He turned away, back to his draig, then glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Keep a close watch on the path you follow, my friend, else one day you will look about you and not know where you are,’ Nathair said quietly.

‘Veradis,’ Calidus said as he reached them. ‘I have been looking for you. There are many last arrangements to speak of, before you sail.’

‘Of course there are,’ Veradis sighed. He was frowning, still looking at Nathair. ‘I was just . . .’

‘What?’ Calidus asked, his wolf eyes boring into Veradis.

‘Saying goodbye,’ Nathair said for him.

‘Ahh.’ Calidus looked between the three of them – Nathair, Veradis and Alcyon.

Veradis looked behind Calidus to Sumur. He had seen little of the Jehar since they had arrived, so busy had he been with the organizational duties of the journey to Tenebral that he had not even had time to go and view the cauldron, something that he had dearly wanted to do.

Seeing Sumur now he blinked and swore.

‘What has happened to you?’ he gasped. Sumur was clothed in his usual dark chainmail, his curved sword arching across his back; he was eating a chicken leg. His tanned skin had paled, though, veins clear beneath the skin. More striking though were his eyes. They were black, no pupil, no iris, just dark, inky wells.