She realized her mouth was open. “Where…where are you from?” she asked, almost unable to string her thoughts together. Tyrus was a manipulative and secretive man, but this went beyond anything her imagination could have summoned.
“I was raised in Wayland,” he answered. “My mentor was a man named Reeder. I did not learn that I had a sister until a short while ago. Tyrus summoned me to Kenatos two days ago. He told me of your situation and offered a way to free you.” He took a step toward her. “I will help you. If you believe what I say.”
Master Shivu had a strange smile on his face. He retreated slowly. “You will leave in the morning. I think it may be best if the two of you spoke a little while. I have known Tyrus Paracelsus for many years. There are always reasons for what he does.”
Hettie did not doubt that for a single moment.
“Please,” she offered, inviting him to enter. He did, glancing at the sparse accommodations with a look of simple pleasure. As a Druidecht he was probably used to sleeping on the forest floor.
“Do you believe what I told you?” Annon asked.
She smiled and tried not to look condescending. “We have a saying among my people. A loud voice can make even the truth sound foolish. I do not need a black ring to know when a man lies. But if you are my brother, then you possess a secret that is persecuted in these lands. Show it to me.”
Annon looked at her knowingly. He did not say the words, but she could almost see them spoken in his eyes. A ripple of blue flames danced across his fingers.
Pyricanthas. Sericanthas. Thas.
She held up her own glowing hand, having thought the words as well, and touched her palm against his. She could feel the magic in his blood. Those with the fireblood were not persecuted among the Romani. They had made sure she was taught the Vaettir words at an appropriate age. That she possessed it only increased her value.
His arrival was unexpected. His arrival was almost a dagger thrust in her heart. How had Tyrus managed to keep this secret? What sort of man would do that?
She released her control of the flames, and they vanished from both of their hands.
“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the reed mat. “We must talk. I need to know everything about you. My name is Hettie, if Tyrus did not tell you. What did he tell you about me?”
Annon seated himself cross-legged on the mat. She joined him, sitting opposite, leaning forward and giving him an eager look. A listening ear was usually all it took to get a man to start speaking. Silencing him, on the other hand, often took a great deal of work.
“That you are Romani, kidnapped at birth, and that you have your first earring. Since we are the same age, you are due for the next and wish to avoid it. He said you were trained as a Finder in Alkire by a man he knows. Despite his wealth and prominence, he refuses to bid for you himself.” She saw his eyes narrow at that. Good. “He told me of an abandoned treasure in the mountains of Alkire. He gave me the key words that will open the treasure and implored me not to speak them to anyone until we have arrived there.”
“It is no secret that is known to three,” Hettie said. “It’s another Romani saying. Go on.”
“That is it. We seek Erasmus in Havenrook, and I was told he knows where the treasure is but not how to retrieve it.”
“I see,” Hettie answered. She wondered how delicately she should put it and decided to be bold. “For too long, Annon, I have been in debt. My entire life is a debt. I wish to be free of that debt forever. While I appreciate your help and that you are coming with us, I want to know how much of the treasure you want. If you come with me, you are entitled to a portion…”
Annon’s hand grabbed hers. “Not a ducat or a pent. I am not like our uncle. A Druidecht has no need of money, really. Neither do the Bhikhu, I am told. I think Tyrus chose us to help you because we do it freely.”
She shook her head warningly. “If a cat had a dowry, she would often be kissed. You say this now, Annon, but I do not know how sizeable this treasure is. I will give you a portion willingly. I just wish to agree right now as to what that is. We must have an understanding. I cannot be indebted to both you and the Bhikhu.”
“Not a ducat or a pent. I will take none of it. You said you knew a man was lying. I am not like Tyrus. I am a Druidecht. I know the woodlands. I have abilities that can prevent us from facing certain dangers. And if the road gets hard, we both have the fire.”
He was sincere. He was probably unwise not to request something from her. But she could not doubt his sense of integrity and commitment. It almost made her feel guilty because she had not been raised the same way. Such a contrast to her experience. It was like finding a butterfly in the middle of the sewers.
“I was raised in Wayland,” he answered. “My mentor was a man named Reeder. I did not learn that I had a sister until a short while ago. Tyrus summoned me to Kenatos two days ago. He told me of your situation and offered a way to free you.” He took a step toward her. “I will help you. If you believe what I say.”
Master Shivu had a strange smile on his face. He retreated slowly. “You will leave in the morning. I think it may be best if the two of you spoke a little while. I have known Tyrus Paracelsus for many years. There are always reasons for what he does.”
Hettie did not doubt that for a single moment.
“Please,” she offered, inviting him to enter. He did, glancing at the sparse accommodations with a look of simple pleasure. As a Druidecht he was probably used to sleeping on the forest floor.
“Do you believe what I told you?” Annon asked.
She smiled and tried not to look condescending. “We have a saying among my people. A loud voice can make even the truth sound foolish. I do not need a black ring to know when a man lies. But if you are my brother, then you possess a secret that is persecuted in these lands. Show it to me.”
Annon looked at her knowingly. He did not say the words, but she could almost see them spoken in his eyes. A ripple of blue flames danced across his fingers.
Pyricanthas. Sericanthas. Thas.
She held up her own glowing hand, having thought the words as well, and touched her palm against his. She could feel the magic in his blood. Those with the fireblood were not persecuted among the Romani. They had made sure she was taught the Vaettir words at an appropriate age. That she possessed it only increased her value.
His arrival was unexpected. His arrival was almost a dagger thrust in her heart. How had Tyrus managed to keep this secret? What sort of man would do that?
She released her control of the flames, and they vanished from both of their hands.
“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the reed mat. “We must talk. I need to know everything about you. My name is Hettie, if Tyrus did not tell you. What did he tell you about me?”
Annon seated himself cross-legged on the mat. She joined him, sitting opposite, leaning forward and giving him an eager look. A listening ear was usually all it took to get a man to start speaking. Silencing him, on the other hand, often took a great deal of work.
“That you are Romani, kidnapped at birth, and that you have your first earring. Since we are the same age, you are due for the next and wish to avoid it. He said you were trained as a Finder in Alkire by a man he knows. Despite his wealth and prominence, he refuses to bid for you himself.” She saw his eyes narrow at that. Good. “He told me of an abandoned treasure in the mountains of Alkire. He gave me the key words that will open the treasure and implored me not to speak them to anyone until we have arrived there.”
“It is no secret that is known to three,” Hettie said. “It’s another Romani saying. Go on.”
“That is it. We seek Erasmus in Havenrook, and I was told he knows where the treasure is but not how to retrieve it.”
“I see,” Hettie answered. She wondered how delicately she should put it and decided to be bold. “For too long, Annon, I have been in debt. My entire life is a debt. I wish to be free of that debt forever. While I appreciate your help and that you are coming with us, I want to know how much of the treasure you want. If you come with me, you are entitled to a portion…”
Annon’s hand grabbed hers. “Not a ducat or a pent. I am not like our uncle. A Druidecht has no need of money, really. Neither do the Bhikhu, I am told. I think Tyrus chose us to help you because we do it freely.”
She shook her head warningly. “If a cat had a dowry, she would often be kissed. You say this now, Annon, but I do not know how sizeable this treasure is. I will give you a portion willingly. I just wish to agree right now as to what that is. We must have an understanding. I cannot be indebted to both you and the Bhikhu.”
“Not a ducat or a pent. I will take none of it. You said you knew a man was lying. I am not like Tyrus. I am a Druidecht. I know the woodlands. I have abilities that can prevent us from facing certain dangers. And if the road gets hard, we both have the fire.”
He was sincere. He was probably unwise not to request something from her. But she could not doubt his sense of integrity and commitment. It almost made her feel guilty because she had not been raised the same way. Such a contrast to her experience. It was like finding a butterfly in the middle of the sewers.
