“Close your eyes,” Annon whispered.
He could feel the warmth of the magic seep through him and into her skin, threading through the muscles and tendons and bone. Hettie started to flinch, but Annon held her still. There was a gentle pulse of heat and then the creature was gone.
Annon opened his eyes. The bruises on her neck and arms were gone as well. She looked at him in awe and stretched out her arm, twisting her wrist as if it were completely healed.
“How did you do that?” she whispered. “Was it a prayer?”
“In a way,” he answered, smiling. “It is a bit complicated, but the magic is part of the Druidecht lore. I invited a spirit to heal you. It agreed. I could not force it to do so. But it had compassion on you and our situation and decided to help us.” He turned and gazed at Erasmus. “One of the things I learned before we fell asleep in the tree. I have not had time to mention it. Drosta spoke to me. He is a Druidecht now. He isn’t a Paracelsus any longer. He said the entire city of Kenatos is enslaving spirits.”
“I don’t understand,” Hettie said. “I fell asleep so quickly. I was so afraid and then suddenly I could not keep my eyes open. I heard him speaking, but I could not understand him.”
“He told us that the Arch-Rike and his kind are trapping spirits in Kenatos. They are binding them into service. Into slavery. You remember the lights in the city? When the darkness comes, all of the city starts to glow? Those are trapped spirits. The Arch-Rike has been trapping them and using them. The blade we found in Drosta’s lair. It contains an ancient spirit called the Iddawc. Knowing its name can give you power over it, but it seeks to subvert strong men into killing. It was forged to kill those like Uncle Tyrus.”
“Then why did he send us to find it?” Hettie asked, frustration on her face.
“He means to use it in the Scourgelands. Obviously it is a powerful magic. Perhaps powerful enough to survive the dangers there.”
“Then why not get it himself?” Hettie asked.
Erasmus clucked his tongue. “Never presume to understand his thinking. That way lies madness. It seems he has work for us to do. If he knows of a way to end the Plague…if he has finally discovered the solution to that riddle, it is worth more than every ducat in Havenrook. An event like that would topple the Arch-Rike.”
“I don’t care about the Arch-Rike,” Hettie said. “It is that Kishion I would see humbled. It was unfair of him to cripple Paedrin like that. Now both of his arms are broken.”
Annon looked at her dark expression. “Will you go to Kenatos and seek the jewels Tyrus asked you for?”
She nodded gruffly. “I am a Finder, after all. And a Romani. It would not surprise me if the rubble was searched for treasures. There are thieves aplenty in that city. Any one worth his carnotha would have searched the grounds or bribed a guard for trinkets found.” She sighed. “Only I have nothing to barter for it, so I may have to steal it back.”
Annon felt a huge pang of worry for her. They had not known each other long, but the surge of protective feelings swelling in his heart startled him. As he had watched the Kishion strangle her, he would have done anything to stop it. He gripped her shoulder and then pulled her close.
“I was so worried when he was choking you,” he whispered, squeezing her. He knew that her life had been spared because he spoke. He would not have done any differently. Her hair brushed against his face, and he felt her arm offer a timid hug in reply.
“Thank you for saving me,” she said. She pulled away, but only enough to look in his eyes. “You are not what I expected, Annon Waylander.” She reached down and took his hand, squeezing it. “I wish you knew the truth…I wish we had known the truth about each other.”
“I would have come for you,” he promised. “I would have searched every Romani caravan until I found you.” He fingered the single hoop in her ear. “I would tear this off you right now…”
“Don’t,” she flinched, shaking her head. “You don’t know the Romani. If I help Tyrus, perhaps I will earn my freedom. We’ve made an enemy of Kiranrao, but he still wants that blade. He won’t stop until he gets it. He is relentless.”
Annon could see the danger his uncle had warned them about. The most powerful men in the kingdoms were his enemies. But apparently, he had allies as well. He sighed. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, rubbing her arm affectionately. “We have been through so much together already. I worry about you. Don’t use the fireblood unless you absolutely must. Please.”
He could feel the warmth of the magic seep through him and into her skin, threading through the muscles and tendons and bone. Hettie started to flinch, but Annon held her still. There was a gentle pulse of heat and then the creature was gone.
Annon opened his eyes. The bruises on her neck and arms were gone as well. She looked at him in awe and stretched out her arm, twisting her wrist as if it were completely healed.
“How did you do that?” she whispered. “Was it a prayer?”
“In a way,” he answered, smiling. “It is a bit complicated, but the magic is part of the Druidecht lore. I invited a spirit to heal you. It agreed. I could not force it to do so. But it had compassion on you and our situation and decided to help us.” He turned and gazed at Erasmus. “One of the things I learned before we fell asleep in the tree. I have not had time to mention it. Drosta spoke to me. He is a Druidecht now. He isn’t a Paracelsus any longer. He said the entire city of Kenatos is enslaving spirits.”
“I don’t understand,” Hettie said. “I fell asleep so quickly. I was so afraid and then suddenly I could not keep my eyes open. I heard him speaking, but I could not understand him.”
“He told us that the Arch-Rike and his kind are trapping spirits in Kenatos. They are binding them into service. Into slavery. You remember the lights in the city? When the darkness comes, all of the city starts to glow? Those are trapped spirits. The Arch-Rike has been trapping them and using them. The blade we found in Drosta’s lair. It contains an ancient spirit called the Iddawc. Knowing its name can give you power over it, but it seeks to subvert strong men into killing. It was forged to kill those like Uncle Tyrus.”
“Then why did he send us to find it?” Hettie asked, frustration on her face.
“He means to use it in the Scourgelands. Obviously it is a powerful magic. Perhaps powerful enough to survive the dangers there.”
“Then why not get it himself?” Hettie asked.
Erasmus clucked his tongue. “Never presume to understand his thinking. That way lies madness. It seems he has work for us to do. If he knows of a way to end the Plague…if he has finally discovered the solution to that riddle, it is worth more than every ducat in Havenrook. An event like that would topple the Arch-Rike.”
“I don’t care about the Arch-Rike,” Hettie said. “It is that Kishion I would see humbled. It was unfair of him to cripple Paedrin like that. Now both of his arms are broken.”
Annon looked at her dark expression. “Will you go to Kenatos and seek the jewels Tyrus asked you for?”
She nodded gruffly. “I am a Finder, after all. And a Romani. It would not surprise me if the rubble was searched for treasures. There are thieves aplenty in that city. Any one worth his carnotha would have searched the grounds or bribed a guard for trinkets found.” She sighed. “Only I have nothing to barter for it, so I may have to steal it back.”
Annon felt a huge pang of worry for her. They had not known each other long, but the surge of protective feelings swelling in his heart startled him. As he had watched the Kishion strangle her, he would have done anything to stop it. He gripped her shoulder and then pulled her close.
“I was so worried when he was choking you,” he whispered, squeezing her. He knew that her life had been spared because he spoke. He would not have done any differently. Her hair brushed against his face, and he felt her arm offer a timid hug in reply.
“Thank you for saving me,” she said. She pulled away, but only enough to look in his eyes. “You are not what I expected, Annon Waylander.” She reached down and took his hand, squeezing it. “I wish you knew the truth…I wish we had known the truth about each other.”
“I would have come for you,” he promised. “I would have searched every Romani caravan until I found you.” He fingered the single hoop in her ear. “I would tear this off you right now…”
“Don’t,” she flinched, shaking her head. “You don’t know the Romani. If I help Tyrus, perhaps I will earn my freedom. We’ve made an enemy of Kiranrao, but he still wants that blade. He won’t stop until he gets it. He is relentless.”
Annon could see the danger his uncle had warned them about. The most powerful men in the kingdoms were his enemies. But apparently, he had allies as well. He sighed. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, rubbing her arm affectionately. “We have been through so much together already. I worry about you. Don’t use the fireblood unless you absolutely must. Please.”
