‘It’s something I’m still working on. If I can put it together, I might try it and see if it works.’

‘Don’t extemporize, Sparhawk. You know how I feel about surprises. Take off your gauntlets, and remove Bhelliom from the pouch. Don’t let it out of your grasp, and be sure that the rings are touching it at all times. Do you still remember the Troll language?’

‘Yes. Ulath and I have been practising.’

‘Good. You can speak to Bhelliom in Elene, but you’ll have to speak to Khwaj in His own tongue. Tell me what you did today – in Troll.’

The words were halting at first, but after a few moments he became more fluent. The changeover from the Elene language to Troll involved a profound shift in his thinking. In their language itself lay some of the character of the Trolls. It was not a pleasant character, and it involved concepts entirely alien to the Elene mind – except at the deepest, most primitive level.

‘All right,’ she told him, ‘come to the fire, and let’s begin. Be like iron, Sparhawk. Don’t hesitate or explain anything. Just give commands.’

He nodded and removed his gauntlets. The two blood-red rings, one on each of his hands, glowed in the firelight. He reached inside his surcoat and took out the pouch. Then he and his tutor stood before the hearth and looked into the crackling flames. ‘Open the pouch,’ Sephrenia instructed.

He worked the knots free.

‘Now, take Bhelliom out. Order it to bring Khwaj to you. Then tell Khwaj what you want. You don’t have to be too explicit. Khwaj will understand your thoughts. Pray that you never understand His.’

He drew in a deep breath and set the pouch down on the hearth. ‘Here goes,’ he said. He pulled the pouch open and took the Bhelliom out. The Sapphire Rose was icy cold as he touched it. He lifted it, trying to keep his sense of awe at the sight of it far away from his mind. ‘Blue-Rose!’ he snapped, holding the jewel in both hands. ‘Bring the voice of Khwaj to me!’

He felt a strange shift in the jewel, and a single spot of bright red appeared deep within the azure petals. The Bhelliom suddenly grew hot in his hands.

‘Khwaj!’ Sparhawk barked in the language of Trolls, ‘I am Sparhawk-from-Elenia. I have the rings. Khwaj must do as I command.’

Bhelliom shuddered in his hand.

‘I seek Martel-from-Elenia,’ Sparhawk continued. ‘Martel-from-Elenia stayed in this place two sleeps ago. Khwaj will show Sparhawk-from-Elenia what he wishes to see in the fire. Khwaj will make it so Sparhawk-from-Elenia can hear what he wishes to hear. Khwaj will obey! Now!’