The flames steadied to a slow graceful wavering. They seemed to hum a single sweet note, just on the edge of hearing.

“Bring the boy forward,” the chancellor ordered.

I clenched my teeth. Now, when there were people to see, I was not going to cry or scream. I would show them. I walked forward between the two guards, staring the chancellor straight in the eye.

The note the white flames sang changed. It grew harsh and hissing, and the flames began to leap wildly again, snapping and cracking as though they burned pitch-filled pinewood. They reached towards me as if driven by a strong wind.

I felt as though my skin were on fire. I knew I must plunge my hand into the bowl of white flames. I must, to prove to them that I was human. I took another step, and one more, but the very air burned. I could not breathe. I could not see. I could not feel the floor under my feet. Everything had become a hot roaring whiteness. Far, far away, I could hear Master Arvol shouting, “Behold! The Nightwalker cannot even approach the flame!”

Maurey has always been persecuted for the colour of his skin and eyes. He has never known more about his parents than that his mother died the day he was born. When the king's chancellor discovers that Maurey possesses a ring belonging to the missing queen and another that may be the key to finding the hidden kingdom of the inhuman warlocks of Talverdin, he is imprisoned, revealed as a Nightwalker, and sentenced to execution in philosopher's fire. Rescued by a young baroness with her own reasons for fearing the chancellor, Maurey sets out on a dangerous journey to the land of his father's people. If he and Annot are to survive and prevent the destruction of the last refuge of the Nightwalkers, Maurey will have to call on human and inhuman skills he never knew he possessed, and win the trust of both sides of his family.