Endword

Much of what we know about Myrddin comes from several sources, as Wallace Wong explains to Phyllis early on in this story. Amongst them, Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae, written in the twelfth century; Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, penned in the fifteenth century; and Robert de Boron’s poem Merlin, probably from the early thirteenth century, all present different versions of the wizard. The illustration of Myrddin being helped by a giant to build Stonehenge is from a twelfth-century manuscript of a history of Britain by the poet Wace, which is kept in the British Library.

Nearly all of the magic that Phyllis performs in this story has at one time or another been performed for me by my favourite magician. Indeed, the feather trick Phyllis performs for Myrddin in his belvedere was invented by this prestidigitator, and I’ve dedicated this tale to her. She has generously helped me with many of the technical details regarding the tricks and illusions that Phyllis uses, without giving away any secrets behind the magic.

As Phyllis discovers, the Standing Stones at Callanish in Scotland is very much a magical place. I was lucky that whenever I visited the stones the site was deserted and I was able to wander in their midst undisturbed. The pool of water is there, as Phyllis, Daisy and Clement find it, and it is of the darkest, deepest colour. If ever you can get to Callanish, breathe in the stillness and the mystery. I hope you will find the ancient place as timeless as I do.

Finally, readers may be relieved to know that, to my knowledge, a ventriloquist the likes of Alexander Sturdy has never lived, let alone practised the fine and noble art of ventriloquism. (Having said that, I admit that the world is a very big place, and Times converge across it constantly and fleetingly—and so my knowledge of such things is incomplete . . .)

Go carefully up any stairs you come across, and remember: we all need mysteries in our lives, no matter who we are.

G. McS.

Sydney and Cawdor