.

rather well at it. He’s actually far more impressive than my father.’

      ‘You shock me.’

      ‘Good. I’d hate to be predictable. Come on, I’m famished. I’m hoping there’s a village ahead because I’ve tired mightily of your stale bread and dry fruit.’

      Greven paid no attention to his complaints. His mind had already begun to race as to how he could find and get a message to the Valisar girl.

      A cold air bit at Evie’s cheeks. She heard birdsong, the rustle of leaves and the sounds of what was probably a stream, she realised. And then she heard Reg’s voice. ‘Take it slowly. Here, drink this,’ he urged gently.

      Evie struggled to sit up, squinting open her eyes. ‘Reg?’

      ‘Hush, just drink.’

      ‘Is this more of your spiked —’

      ‘No. It is the cleanest, most beautiful water you’ve ever tasted. Trust me.’

      She gave him a mirthless smile. ‘I’ve fallen for your trust me line before.’ She sipped and did indeed taste the sweetest of waters, chilled enough to make her gasp. ‘Are we alive?’

      ‘Very much so.’

      She coughed once, blinked hard and forced herself to open her eyes fully. ‘And this isn’t a dream?’

      He shook his head. ‘How do you feel?’

      ‘Confused. Bruised.’

      ‘I wasn’t trying to kill you.’

      ‘That’s not how it appeared.’

      Reg sighed. Evie looked up to buy herself some time to think clearly. ‘What is this tree?’

      He sighed again. ‘If you knew your trees,’ he said, with a tiny hint of admonishment in his tone, ‘you would probably know this as a wych elder. Here, they are known as wychwoods.’

      ‘Here?’ she said, looking around, noticing the stream she’d heard not very far away and mountains in the distance behind. ‘Where exactly is here, Reg?’

      He sat down opposite her and she was surprised to note that the haunted expression her friend had always possessed — the one which seemed to speak so loudly to others that he should be left alone — was gone. In fact, Reg looked almost relaxed for the first time since she’d met him.

      ‘Here, Evie, is a place that was once known as the Denova Set. I have no idea if it still possesses that title. But if I’m not mistaken, I think this particular spot where we sit is at the base of a place called Lo’s Teeth, which is east of Gormond, west of Droste, south of Cremond, north of Dregon.’ His smile widened mischievously. ‘Does that help?’

      She shook her head. ‘You’re making fun of me. Have you any idea how it feels to be me right now, wondering what the hell has just happened?’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I haven’t lied to you. The place I have described is where I believe we are. This is woodland known as Whirlow and that stream, which has a name that I can’t remember right now, runs into Lake Aran, to the south.’

      Evie was astonished to see moisture gather in his eyes. ‘Reg, are those tears?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never even seen you get misty.’

      He wiped his cheeks. ‘It is good to be home, Evie. Are you hurt?’

      ‘I don’t believe so. But I don’t understand why not. Mind you, that query pales by comparison to my lack of understanding as to how we’re both not splattered across the pavement outside a city hospital right now. We leapt from a dozen storeys high!’

      He allowed her anger to pass, looking down, saying nothing.

      Evie gave a sound like a growl. ‘I need an explanation, Reg, or I am going to explode or kill you … make a choice.’

      He didn’t smile. ‘Will you stay still and silent while I tell you everything that I can?’

      ‘Why does that sound as though I should leap up now and run screaming from you?’

      He nodded. ‘You’re right — what I have to tell you is frightening. But you need to hear it and you need to hear it all, or nothing will make sense to you. I need your promise that you will listen until I’ve told you the whole story.’

      Evie licked her lips. ‘You’d better start at page one!’

      ‘Indeed. I suppose the beginning is my name, which is not Reg. My name is Corbel.’

      ‘Corbel?’ she repeated, feeling anger starting to suffuse her confusion. ‘Not at all Reg-like!’

      ‘My father was Regor de Vis. I borrowed from his name.’

      ‘How convenient for —’

      ‘Be quiet. My father probably didn’t survive the rage of a man called Loethar, who hailed himself the king of the barbarian horde. He came from the east.’ Evie saw the pain on his face as he pointed. ‘The barbarians were from the plains, an area known as the Likurian Steppes. Loethar was a tyrant who murdered all in his wake. From what I could gather before I left, he was killing all the royals of the Set — that was a group of independent realms with common interests — and I suspect he left my king to the last. My father was the king’s right-hand man.’

      ‘What does that make you?’ she said, working hard to keep all sarcasm from her tone, knowing she needed to humour her friend. She could tell that, delusion or not, this story was incredibly hard for him to speak of.

      ‘It makes me the son of a high ranking noble and the twin brother of Gavriel de Vis.’

      ‘Twin?’

      He nodded. ‘I was forced to leave my family.’

      ‘By whom?’

      ‘The king.’

      Definitely delusional, Evie thought. Yet in her heart she couldn’t really believe it. She had never known a more sane person than Reg. Should she humour him now, call him Corbel? ‘King?’

      ‘King Brennus, eighth of the Valisars. We are from Penraven, which is southwest of here.’

      It was all getting too much to keep clear in her mind. ‘Reg … er, Corbel, if you prefer —’

      ‘I do.’

      She took a steadying breath. ‘Corbel, why are you telling me this? What does King Bran or whatever his name is —’

      Now his gaze flashed angrily at her. ‘His name is Brennus and I served him faithfully.’

      She was stung by the force in his voice. He had never taken such a tone with her before. ‘All right,’ she began again, calmly. ‘I want to know why I am here. What does all of what you’ve begun to tell me, including King Brennus, have to do with me?’

      ‘Plenty,’ he said flatly, eyeing her with a hard gaze. ‘This is the land where you were born. Your real name is Genevieve. You are a Valisar. And King Brennus is your father.’

      She rocked back against the tree, stunned. Then in the silence that followed, which Reg clearly wasn’t going to fill, she hauled herself upright. She felt momentarily dizzy but the drug was wearing off and the water had helped. ‘Reg, this is not going any further. In fact —’

      ‘Look around you, Evie. Does anything look familiar? Smell familiar? Taste or sound familiar?’

      She could feel pinpricks of perspiration and the hairs standing up at the back of her neck. She’d been trying to shut out all of the foreignness of where she was, hoping that as the drug wore off, so would the sense of dislocation. And while she couldn’t understand how they had not been splattered across concrete, her logical mindtold her that there had to be a rational explanation, no matter what insanity had taken over her friend. But it was true, nothing felt familiar. This didn’t