‘Does there have to be a purpose? Is there a reason the sun comes up every day or the birds sing? Maybe it just is.’

‘A lot of people believe these things happen because the gods will it. It’s what Tanalvah would say, isn’t it?’

‘Is that what you’re saying? You think the gods are responsible for what’s happening to you?’

‘An honest answer would be I don’t know. I’m not even sure what I think about the idea of gods.’

‘Hmm. So, you got one set of visions that plagued you for years, and they have to do with chunks of your life history. And they tie in somehow with the fits of rage you suffer. Right?’

‘They’re often connected. Though not always. The berserk I had during the last pirate raid, for instance. No visions that time.’

‘Now there are new visions, but they’re different, and they have something to do with Zerreiss.’

‘We don’t know that.’

‘It’s a good bet. And you’re still getting the rages with these new visions, and-’

‘Where’s this getting us?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe nowhere. But I like getting things straight in my mind. As I said, the visions have changed but you’re still berserking. And now you’re perhaps being noticed by somebody in them.’

‘Can you draw any conclusions from all that?’

‘No. Beyond the obvious fact.’

‘Which is?’

‘Magic. That has to be the link.’

‘I always assumed I was under some kind of hex, so that comes as no big surprise.’

‘Pretty powerful magic though, don’t you think? Unlike anything I’ve come across. Not to mention that whoever’s responsible hasn’t lifted the charm on you in over seventy years. That seems an awfully long time to pursue a vendetta without some kind of payoff to it.’

‘The curse, or whatever it is, is a payoff in itself. Whoever was responsible for my state had the satisfaction of knowing I’d suffer for a very long time.’

‘It doesn’t make sense, Reeth. No ordinary human would live long enough to savour your pain. Unless you’ve been cursed by successive generations of wizards. Or else…’

‘Go on.’

‘Or else there are others like you. People with incredibly extended life-spans for whom centuries mean nothing.’

‘We know at least one. Phoenix. He’s in his hundredth year, remember.’

‘That’s different. An exceptional case. He had access to a little bit of Founder knowledge that made it possible.’

‘Maybe he isn’t the only one. Who’s to say there aren’t caches of their lore in other hands? Hell, I’m going to be looking for the Founder’s knowledge trove myself.’

‘Which, of course, raises the question of whether somebody else has already found it.’

‘You know how to brighten my day, Serrah.’

She grimaced at him. ‘Having said that, I don’t think anybody has.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘I can’t. But remember what Phoenix himself said, and Karr: if the Source had been discovered we’d have seen the effects of it all around us. Whoever had access to it wouldn’t stop at merely extending their lives; they’d be running things by now. Or we’d all be dead.’

‘Perhaps they simply haven’t mastered it.’

‘After seventy years? I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t buy the whole hex thing, not really. I mean, what kind of curse is it that bestows something like immortality on the victim? Yes, I know that as a gift it’s been a two-edged sword for you, but you get my point. I reckon we’re looking at something quite different to an enemy’s enchantment. Though I’m damned if I know what.’

Caldason smiled. ‘I think you’re beginning to see it isn’t a problem given to easy solutions.’

She had to smile back. ‘I didn’t expect to solve it in five minutes. Dolt.’

He laughed. ‘Really? I would have thought any self-respecting problem wouldn’t dare defy you.’

‘You cheeky…’ She snatched up a pillow and battered him until it split, releasing a cloud of tiny feathers.

‘Reeth,’ she said, plucking feathers from her lips and adopting a more serious tone, ‘is Kutch sharing these latest visions with you?’

‘He picked up on the first one or two. But it seems to have stopped since he quit his spotter training.’

‘There it is again: magic. There’s a link here somewhere. I’d swear these things connect.’

‘I’ve not been able to figure out how.’

‘We should talk to Kutch. You never know, he might come up with something. Some clue or-’

He took her in his arms and gently nibbled her ear. ‘All right. But let’s do it later, shall we?’

Their lips met.

In one of the Diamond Isle’s remotest parts, at its eastern tip, sheer cliffs acted as a natural barrier to assault from the sea. At the cliffs’ top, on a stretch of grassland, there stood an assembly of chalets, a relic of the island’s days as a pleasure resort. It was here that the handful of Covenant sorcerers who had escaped Bhealfa chose to congregate, alongside the few wizards already in residence. A centre for retreat and meditation, the spot was universally respected as the island’s only private place.

The cabins were dilapidated, and around them the snow had been trodden to slush. A small stand of trees acted as a windbreak, but in their wintry, denuded state the protection was minimal. Overall, the impression was cheerless.

One hut stood well apart from the rest. The snow surrounding it was near pristine, bearing only a few sets of footprints, and all its windows were shuttered.

Inside, Kutch Pirathon was finishing a study session with his surrogate mentor, who this day had eschewed a magical disguise. He appeared as he was; elderly, white-haired and furrow-faced.

‘And you’re sure you haven’t experienced any of Reeth Caldason’s visions lately?’ Phoenix asked.

‘No,’ Kutch repeated, irritated at the old man’s persistence. He slammed shut the hinged book he’d been perusing. ‘And I don’t lie about these things. That was something my master always insisted on.’

‘Then he taught you well. Don’t be offended, boy. I’m pressing you only because it’s important.’

‘As I said, we stopped sharing visions a couple of months ago.’

‘When you gave up spotting.’

‘Yes.’

‘And dreams? What about those?’

Kutch looked reticent. ‘Well…’

‘What was it your master always insisted on?’

The youth sighed. ‘Occasionally, in dreams…yes, there’s a connection. But not often, and nowhere near as powerful as the visions I used to get. It’s not a problem, but…I thought stopping my training as a spotter would free me.’

‘Well, it seems it mostly has, as you say yourself. But I suspect some link between you and Caldason will go on as long as you practice magic of any kind.’

‘Oh.’ He was deflated. ‘That’s a depressing thought.’

‘Because you think that means you’re forced to make a choice? Between your friendship with Caldason and your devotion to magic?’

Kutch looked up hopefully. ‘Doesn’t it?’

‘I think you’re misunderstanding me. The link will go on if you continue with magic, though it may be possible for us to dampen its effect on you. But nothing you do, including abandoning the craft, will make any difference to Caldason, if that’s what you were hoping. His entanglement with magic is beyond any action you take.’

‘But that seems so unfair. Reeth hates magic.’

‘I hate rain, but that doesn’t stop me getting wet.’ He added more soberly, ‘Use your common sense, boy. Caldason’s feelings in the matter are of no more account than a condemned man’s opinion of the rope he’s hanged with.’

‘Can’t you do anything for him?’

‘Our efforts have proved futile. Now his hopes reside in the Source, assuming he can find it, and if what’s left of Covenant can decipher it. Neither of which will be easy.’

‘Then we have to do all we can to help him find it.’

‘Indeed. Because if he fails, only one other way of breaking his bonds remains.’

‘What’s that?’

‘His death.’ Phoenix gazed steadily at Kutch.