“I followed Thorne, or Fernando Van-Quish as he was then, here to Bisby more than 250 years ago,” explained Alejandra, waving away the grey mist that filled the archway.
She had led them to a small antechamber where a huge age-dulled mirror hung in an ornately carved frame of polished black stone. Flanking it were a pair of enormous hourglasses that were mounted to the wall through their throats. A tangle of thin golden vines emerged from the wall beside each hourglass and trailed along the dusty ground. Each ‘vine’ pulsated from within as though it were connected to a heart. Chase traced their path to a stone plinth in the centre of the chamber.
The top of the plinth was carved into an elaborate sundial, its pointed gnomon crafted from the same shiny black stone as the mirror frame and
