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A gleaming silver circle in the puddle caught Toryn’s eye. He looked up to see the moon had broken through the clouds as it rose over the horizon. Hamar chuckled. ‘Ha! The fairy folk are on our side, see, they’ve lit the lantern to show us the way.’

Toryn felt the tension in his shoulders ease. His breath blew like wispy clouds as he laughed along with Hamar. ‘Good. I’m getting fed up with seeing no more than two paces ahead of my nose.’ Toryn stopped at the edge of the trees and peered across a farmed field in the faint light. ‘I’d hoped to see a bit more of the world, but this place could be our home.’

‘There're more hills and valleys on the way. And the folk of Greendell will cheer you up. They’re good people, hard-working and honest. Plus, they enjoy an evening listening to a good tale washed down with a fine ale.’

‘That’ll make a change. We’ve been walking for three days and haven’t seen a soul.’

‘I know, but I’m starting to think we’re the only two left in this world.’

Hamar’s head tipped back as he gazed at the moon. ‘We’re never alone in this world. Trust me, there are greater forces at play we know little about.’ He placed his hands on his hips. ‘I’ve seen too many sights on my travels that can have no other explanation.’

Toryn watched the emerging stars as the clouds thinned. ‘Do you believe in the Three?’

‘Of course, lad. Why wouldn’t you? Who do you think created the land, oceans and the sky? Do you think they sprung from nothing?’

‘But the Three Maidens? It has to be a fairytale, surely?’

‘Until folk can prove otherwise, I’ll believe in my fairytales thank you. But fairytales have a happy ending, yet the fate of the Three was nothing of the kind. Therefore, it has to be real. Why make up a story with such a tragic end?’

‘But an evil force? Greater than your Three Maidens?’

Hamar shrugged. ‘Why not? They say the Evil One could not bear to see such beauty of the Three and their creation. Those fair maidens couldn’t have imagined something so twisted could exist in a world they’d had a hand in making.’ He looked Toryn in the eye. ‘When those winter gales blow in from the north, are you telling me you can’t hear their wails?’ He bowed his head. ‘Those poor lasses. Can’t imagine the pain they suffered. We used to stuff our socks in our ears when the storms came. Their tormented cries could drive a man mad.’

Toryn laughed. ‘Are you sure you stuffed both ears?’

‘Oh, you can mock me all you like. You’ve lived your entire life sheltered in a mostly quiet part of the world.’ He wagged his finger. ‘But I tell you, you’ll see sights soon enough to open your mind.’

‘I don’t doubt that, I…’ Toryn realized Hamar had stopped listening. ‘What is it? What have you seen?’

Hamar stroked his whiskers. He squinted at the line of hills. ‘I’ve been here before.’ He arched his back and checked ahead. ‘Ah, yes.’ A smile spread across his lips. ‘Yes, I remember.’ He turned back to Toryn. ‘Fairytales, you say?’ He nodded. ‘You’re in luck. Let me show you something that might change your mind.’ Hamar paused for a moment, looking back to the horizon. ‘Now then. If my memory still serves me right, it’ll be over there, won’t take long. A few minutes at most to the rocks.’

Hamar led Toryn along the side of a stream up a gentle slope. He pointed ahead. ‘If I recall, we’ll come across a thick hedge.’

A dark line crossed their path. ‘I see it.’ Toryn strode up to find the hedge stood both taller and thicker than it first appeared. He called back to Hamar. ‘I can’t see a gap, not even over the stream.’

Hamar puffed as he caught up. ‘Then we’ll get wet.’

Toryn glanced at the water trickling over the rocks. He shivered. ‘Can’t you just tell me what's behind the hedge?’

Hamar clicked his tongue. ‘We’ll face worse than this later, boy. And no, I can’t tell you, because you wouldn’t believe me.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And I don’t have the words to do it justice.’

Toryn caught the glint in Hamar’s eyes. ‘Alright, you’ve got my interest.’ He rolled up his trouser legs, scrambled down the shallow bank and plunged into the water. He gasped. ‘It’s freezing. This better be worth it.’

Hamar grunted as he dipped his foot in the stream. ‘Oh, it will be, mark my words. Keep your head tucked in. These thorns will happily tear the flesh from your cheeks. Perhaps we should take a cutting. Save us the trouble of building fences if we had a hedge like this on our border.’

Toryn shivered as he crawled beneath the thorns. He twisted to check. ‘We’re through.’ He stood and shuddered as his wet skin met with the cold air. He turned to give Hamar a hand. ‘I suppose we must come back this way.’

Hamar smirked. ‘We do, but you’ll thank me later. See.’ He pointed over Toryn’s shoulder. Toryn turned. The moon peered over the top of a dark, jagged line of rocks sheltering a small wood. The pale light shone through the sparse leaves braving the cool spring air. A narrow path wound its way through the dark trunks. Hamar whispered. ‘Just a short way farther, up that path to the rock face.’

Toryn found his feet following the path. The ground rose as they made their way into the wood. Hamar tapped his shoulder. ‘Can you hear that?’

Toryn cocked his head. ‘Water?’

‘Not just water. Keep going, nearly there.’

A short way ahead, the trees thinned out, allowing more moonlight through. Toryn stopped. ‘It’s a dead end.’

‘Is it?’ Hamar stepped up to his side. He stooped and peered at the rock face. ‘Run your hands along the surface.’

Toryn did as asked. ‘I can’t see what’s… oh, wait. There’s a gap.’

‘Like a postern gate, see. Those wishing to keep this spot hidden, placed a slab of rock in front of a small gap. Head on, you can’t see it, but if you know what you’re looking for, you can find your way inside.’

They squeezed through the gap and entered a small clearing to be greeted by the sound of a babbling brook. Toryn’s heart stopped. A tall, dark figure stood in the middle. He crouched and motioned to Hamar. ‘Someone’s here. Could be one of those shadow creatures.’

But Hamar stayed on his feet. He grinned. ‘Believe me, if it was, your knees would have given way and your stomach squirming like a huckle in a trap.’ Toryn felt his face flush. Hamar took his arm. ‘Don’t fret, lad, you’re not the first to be fooled.’ They stepped out into the opening, awash with moonlight. In the center, water bubbled up from a small pile of rocks. Behind stood a slender, black stone, a few feet taller than Toryn. Hamar nudged him. ‘Go on. Touch it.’

Toryn approached the stone and placed his hand on the smooth surface. ‘It’s warm!’ He turned back to Hamar. ‘How can it be warm in the middle of a chilly night?’

‘No idea. We called them Singing Stones. Came across two on my travels.’

Toryn found he could not take his hand away. He turned back to the stone and stroked his palm across its face. ‘What are they?’

Hamar scratched his head. ‘No one knows for sure, but the Archon gave us strict instructions to report directly to him if we ever found one.’

Toryn peered closer; the rock glimmered in the moonlight. ‘So how did you find this one? It’s not like you can stumble across it by mistake.’

Hamar nodded. ‘Quite so, and by no accident I’m sure.’

‘So how did you come across it?’

He thought for a moment. ‘A stranger had the locals worried. At first, we thought it was some rogue from the wilds, or a cobtroll from under the mountains.’ Hamar held up his hand as Toryn went to speak. ‘Oh yes, back then they’d still venture this far out of their caves now and then, usually banished by their own kind. Somehow, they’d evade the watch on the pass, or find a way out through the caverns and tunnels elsewhere. Anyways, this traveler led us a right merry old dance for days, I can tell you. This way and that, no obvious reason for their route, and when we thought we had them cornered, they’d suddenly disappear. No tracks, no sign of a camp or anything.’

‘Did you find them? Was it a cobtroll?’

Hamar smiled. ‘Oh no, outsmarted us too often, too clever for a cobtroll. No, we soon suspected a lone Amayan warrior was up to no good.’ An eyebrow raised. ‘That’s why we were so keen to stay on their tail. They usually stick together, but it wasn’t unknown for the odd one to take on a quest alone.’

Toryn grinned. ‘Did you catch up with her?’

Hamar rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Almost.’ His eyebrows raised. ‘It was a woman, but not an Amayan. We were in for a shock when we eventually got close enough for a brief glimpse. Too old and bent to be a warrior.’ He frowned. ‘Which made it all the more puzzling as to why we couldn’t keep up with her.’ He chortled. ‘Our captain swore us to secrecy about the whole affair. We were too proud to admit she’d gotten the better of us, so we agreed. We’d never be allowed to hear the end of it. The others would have pulled our legs for years. Ha! We never did apprehend her. The tracks we could follow led us here, but none led away.’ He patted the stone. ‘Anyways, we found this beauty instead.’ He ran his hand down the slab. ‘Not sure if we ever reported this one to the Archon, seeing as we’d struck the previous few days from our records.’

Toryn peered at the stone. ‘Are there many?’

‘I’ve only heard talk of three in all, usually found by a spring like this fine lady.’ He sighed. ‘I’d forgotten how good they feel. Another farther north saved a few frostbitten fingers, I can tell you.’

‘Why call it a Singing Stone?’

‘Ah, well, not sure if it’s their proper name. A guard must have found out by accident, but if you tap one with a sword, they make a sound like you’ve never heard. Stands all the hairs up on the back of your neck it does.’ Toryn reached for his sword tied to his pack. Hamar stayed his hand. ‘No, not now. You’ll alert everyone within a league.’

Again, Toryn felt his face redden. ‘What are they for?’

‘I can only guess they’re part of a watch, maybe a beacon, but easier to maintain with no need for fuel, dry wood and a torch.’ He patted the stone. ‘All you do is tap it and let your friends know trouble is near.’

Toryn glanced over the surrounding rocks. ‘Maybe if it stood on the top of a hill, but what would you see in the middle of this clearing?’

Hamar straightened. ‘As I said, only a guess, but you’ll never see a slab of stone such as this anywhere else. You can hit them hard with the strongest blade and it won’t scratch, dent, or make a spark. One of my company tried, just to show us how tough he was.’ Hamar laughed then covered his mouth. He whispered. ‘Sorry, should be more careful. But you’d have laughed if you’d seen his face when his blade shattered like an icicle. Took days for his hands to stop shaking.’ He stood back. ‘Imagine if we could have used these to build the Caerwal Gate. Wouldn’t have to place a watch on it. They’d never break through.’

‘But if it’s not part of a watch, what could they be for?’

‘Got me there. But what I do know is the Archon told us on pain of death not to reveal their whereabouts.’

‘But you brought me.’

Hamar shrugged. ‘Death will find me soon enough, whatever I do. But be sure you keep it to yourself… just to be safe.’

‘Don’t worry, I will.’ Toryn walked around the stone. ‘I wonder who put them here?’

‘Not us, for sure. Way beyond the skill of our stoneworkers to create a monument such as this. Must have been folk long before our people came to these lands.’ Hamar’s eyes glistened. ‘I reckon it’s the work of the Three.’

The hairs on the back of Toryn’s neck stood up. ‘Shame we can’t make it sing.’

‘A shame to be sure. I’d wager it sounds like the very Maidens themselves singing. I would love to hear their song one more time before I’m done with this world.’ He patted the the stone. ‘Perhaps another time.’

Toryn strolled to the far side of the small clearing. He stooped and dipped his hand in the cold water. At first, all he heard was the trickle as it tumbled across the rocks. But then, he could not be sure if it was his imagination, but it seemed a voice sang softly.

Hamar hobbled across the grass. He cocked his head towards the stream. ‘My dear mother, bless her, told me if you listen carefully you can hear the echo from the time the Three Maidens first sang their Song of Creation.’ He kept his eyes on the stream. ‘It’s in the water, from the babbling of a brook, to the roaring of the rapids, or in the rustling of the leaves on a tall tree.’ He looked up. ‘The birds know. You see, the Maidens taught them each a part of the Song, so if the worst happens, they could sing it all over again between them.’ Hamar turned to Toryn. ‘Still listening? I know you don’t believe in magic and myths.’

Only a few days ago, Toryn would have dismissed Hamar’s tale as nonsense, but sitting in the moonlight next to the stone, he understood the words of Hamar’s mother. He smiled. ‘No, honestly, I’m listening. You’ve not told me this one before.’

Hamar exhaled. ‘I seem to remember more of my mother’s stories these past few years.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I must be nearing my time.’

Toryn dipped his hand back in the cold spring. ‘Tell me more about the birds.’

Hamar beamed. ‘Gladly. Now, let me see. The thrush, ah yes, the song thrush. If I could only hear one bird, it would be them.’ He straightened as if reciting a story. ‘The thrush will sing and pause’ — he tilted his head — ‘sing and pause, waiting for the Maidens to answer. But it’s all in vain.’

‘What about the skylark? They’re my favorite. They sing all summer above the fields.’

Hamar held up a finger. ‘Whereas the lark will twitter away all day long, hovering high in the sky.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘I reckon skylarks don’t want to stop because they can’t bear the silence when there’s no reply.’ He ran his fingers through his beard. ‘Must break their poor little hearts when they’re too exhausted to sing and sink back to the ground.’

‘And the cuckoo?’

‘Can’t remember. Most likely come in near the end of the song, seeing as they only know two notes.’

‘I never knew you thought about such matters. I mean, you know a lot about farming, but’ — he listened again to the soft voice in the water — ‘all this. Echoes. Maidens, birds and… and the like.’

A tear formed in Hamar’s eye. He smiled. ‘You might think I’m an old fool, but—’

‘I don’t. I can’t think of anyone who knows as much as you.’

Hamar blinked. ‘I know you and the others have a laugh behind my back, but I don’t mind, I really don’t. There’s little cause for joy these days, so if I can bring a little mirth into your lives, that’s fine with me.’ Hamar’s watery eyes reflected the moonlight as he stared at the stone. He sighed. ‘Despite all the darkness and cruelty in the world, if you listen carefully, you can still hear the hope of new life. It’s what keeps me going when…’ he turned away.

Toryn gave him a moment before asking, ‘Should we be going? Can only be a few hours before sunrise.’

Hamar sniffed. ‘I think we’ll stop here for the day, start again at nightfall.’

Toryn stood. ‘But shouldn’t we make the most of what’s left of the dark?’

Hamar stretched. ‘No rush. Greendell has been around for a few hundred years nestling between the hills, it can wait another day for us. Besides’ — he yawned — ‘I’m tired. We’ll sleep by the stone and let the warmth ease our aches away.’

Toryn reached for his backpack. ‘Can’t say I disagree.’

Hamar laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. ‘You won’t be needing your blanket. These stones kept us warm on the coldest of winter nights. And you’ll feel like a new man in the morning, and then we’ll make…’ he snored.

Toryn placed his backpack next to the stone. The grass beneath felt softer than his bed, the warmth from the stone made him drowsy and he happily surrendered to the urge to sleep. He lay down his head and closed his eyes.

He pulled the bedclothes closer. Despite the cold, sweat clung to his shivering, fever-wracked body. The wind gleefully shrieked outside, eager to rip the roof from their small house. But it was not the wind keeping him awake. Other voices, dark, fell voices made themselves known amongst the cacophony, rejoicing in the misery the blizzard from the north inflicted upon the land. Shadows danced across the ceiling, and to his innocent eyes, not all looked like shapes made by the trees outside his window.

He shut his eyes and clasped his hands to his ears, trying in vain to think of the last day of summer. His father said you could always tell when autumn was on its way. ‘There’s something in the air’ he would say. He would treasure the last warm day before the chilled air turned the leaves golden. He imagined the sun on his face as he stood at the border of their land and gazed longingly at the winding path leading to the forest.

The scene changed. The skies darkened, and the air grew cool. Yet, he felt no fear. The moon emerged from behind a cloud to show the way. Like the silvery trail of a giant snail, the path invited him to depart his home. A lone voice in the trees called to him. A woman sang. Her words drifted across the meadow and wove her spell. He stepped on the path, took two paces; his body grew light. He tumbled but did not fall. More joined the voice. Their words, unknown to him, held him as he gently rolled head over heels to the trees, away from the monsters of the blizzard, away from the farm, away from the parents who cared for him. Away from his young life to the unknown.

Toryn sat up. At his side, Hamar looked at peace in a deep sleep while the stream flowed on its way as it had done for thousands of years. His face tingled. A voice, like the one from his dream, sang nearby. The high, soft voice of a woman, complementing the music of the stream, so high, and so clear, the woman could be standing by the stone. The moon had risen to a point directly above him, bathing the clearing with a soft, silver light. Another voice joined the first, quickly followed by a third, coming from all directions, weaving their harmonies as effortlessly as the water trickled around the rocks and pebbles.

Toryn’s breath caught in his throat. A figure stood at the opening but cast no shadow on the rock behind. The song rose as the figure approached. The visitor spoke in a language he did not understand, yet the words brought comfort. He closed his eyes and laid back on the soft grass and let sleep take him once more.