‘What about the Troll-Gods, Sephrenia,’ Bevier asked. ‘They’ve shown us that they can reach out to the minds of men. Won’t they be able to call someone and direct him to the place where the box lies hidden? I don’t think they’ll be happy lying at the bottom of the sea for all eternity.’

‘The Troll-Gods can’t reach out to men without the aid of Bhelliom,’ she explained, ‘and Bhelliom’s powerless as long as it’s locked in steel. It lay helpless in that iron deposit in Thalesia from the time this world was made until the day Ghwerig freed it. This may not be entirely foolproof, but it’s the best we can do, I think.’

‘Set the box down on the ground, Kurik,’ Flute instructed, ‘and open it. Sparhawk, take Bhelliom out of the pouch and tell it to sleep.’

‘Forever?’

‘I sort of doubt that. This world won’t last that long, and once it’s gone, Bhelliom will be free to continue its journey.’

Sparhawk took the pouch from his belt and untwisted the wire which held it closed. Then he upended the pouch and the Sapphire Rose fell out into his hand. He felt it shudder with a kind of relief as it was freed from its steel confinement. ‘Blue-Rose,’ he said calmly, ‘I am Sparhawk-from-Elenia. Do you know me?’

It glowed a deep, hard blue, neither hostile nor particularly friendly. The muted snarls he seemed to hear deep in his mind, however, told him that the Troll-Gods did not share that neutrality.

‘The time has come for you to sleep, Blue-Rose,’ Sparhawk said to the jewel. ‘There will be no pain, and when you awaken, you will be free.’

The jewel shuddered again, and its crystal glitter softened, almost as if in gratitude.

‘Sleep now, Blue-Rose,’ he said gently, holding the priceless thing in both hands. Then he placed it in the box and firmly closed the lid.

Wordlessly, Kurik handed him a small, cunningly-wrought lock. Sparhawk nodded and snapped the lock shut on the hasp, noting as he did that the lock had no keyhole. He looked questioningly at the Child-Goddess.

‘Throw it into the sea,’ she said, watching him intently.