Fireblood
Page 117
He turned back to Hettie imploringly. “Child, you must know the truth. I am not your uncle. You were stolen from me as a babe, and I sorely regret it. But you are not my blood. You and Annon were twins. You were stolen by a Romani midwife as a baby. I could not save you then, but I can save you now. This is the moment you can earn your freedom. Whether or not I fail in my quest, the Romani will be hunted and destroyed with Plague. Because of your blood, it will not affect you. Your people will stop wearing the earrings voluntarily. This is the chance to earn your freedom. Help me in this quest. When this is over, you may reside in Silvandom, where Romani are forbidden. This is the freedom I promised you.”
He turned to Erasmus, whose shoulders were scrunched, his mouth agape at the news so far. “This is why I summoned you away from Havenrook, my friend. I am certain you already realize that you will never be able to return to your wealth. You are smart, Erasmus. You understand connections. Think what will happen if we can end the Plague. Think of the prosperity it will unleash. The world will be reborn. Even you cannot calculate that.”
Tyrus turned back to Annon. “Your mother saved my life. I would not have survived the Scourgelands without her. I seek to do her memory justice. To finish what we started. I need a Druidecht. I need you, Annon. We cannot succeed without you.”
Annon felt a flush of pride. He nodded firmly.
Tyrus turned to the other Vaettirs in the room. “Khiara. We learned quickly in the Scourgelands that we should have brought a Shaliah with us. We were all wounded. Many were killed. With your skills, more would have survived. We need a healer. We need someone who can raise our spirits when we are depressed. Your family comes from ancient stock. You are strong in the keramat. You are also needed most desperately in this journey. There is much you can accomplish if your heart is true.” Khiara nodded bravely but said nothing.
Annon looked at the stern-faced prince. His expression was hard, his look almost defiant.
“My friend,” Tyrus said. “You were a lad when we last faced the horrors of the Scourgelands. You wish you had died with us. Instead, you have trained to be able to face the dangers this time. Your courage is without peer…”
“Say no more,” the prince said, holding up his hand to forestall him. “I go.”
Tyrus smiled, relieved. He turned at last to Paedrin, who had stood strangely quiet. Annon always remembered him as being jaunty and opinionated. He was staring at Tyrus with a look so intense it bordered on hatred. The look was confusing. It was not what Annon expected. Why? What had he expected? He felt a little growl inside of Nizeera.
“And you, Paedrin. Your master swore he would accompany me on the next journey, or train one to fulfill his vow. The Bhikhu Aboujaoude was from your temple and he perished on the journey. He died so that Annon and Hettie would live. I need you as well. Your master told me of a sword stolen by a pupil. A pupil known as Cruw Reon. I need you to find that sword and use it in the Scourgelands to defend us. With it, you can restore the Shatalin temple from the dishonor of Cruw Reon.”
Tyrus breathed heavily, as if each word was a burden. “You are all already tangled in this web. The spider comes. Either we work together or we all die separately. The Arch-Rike will unleash all of his terrible power to stop us. Kiranrao—you must alert the Romani of the Arch-Rike’s treachery. You will find evidence of the treaty in Wayland to prove my words. Then do what you must to disrupt the Arch-Rike’s minions outside of the city. Annon—you, Erasmus, and Khiara must seek the oracle of Basilides as I told you to do. Gain the information I asked and return here. Hettie—help Paedrin claim the sword. You are a Romani. You have been trained to steal. The blade was stolen by Cruw Reon but it cursed him. He will no longer even touch it. You must steal it from the Shatalin temple.”
He turned to the prince. “Our task lies south, in Stonehollow. Do you have the stones?”
“I do,” the prince replied firmly. “We must depart at once.”
“And what is your task?” Kiranrao asked, pushing away from the wall. “Tell me all, or I will have no part of this scheme. You have left a few pieces of the puzzle off the table.”
Tyrus smiled grimly. “I did. It is not for you to know all the pieces.”
“You seek another to join then? Or another magic to aid the quest?”
“It is the same. There is one with an ancient magic I seek. One more to join this quest.”
“Who?”
“I cannot tell you.”
Kiranrao scowled. His eyes were livid with rage. “Then take your schemes and perish in the wilderness. I serve no man. Either I am a full partner or I am none.”
He turned to Erasmus, whose shoulders were scrunched, his mouth agape at the news so far. “This is why I summoned you away from Havenrook, my friend. I am certain you already realize that you will never be able to return to your wealth. You are smart, Erasmus. You understand connections. Think what will happen if we can end the Plague. Think of the prosperity it will unleash. The world will be reborn. Even you cannot calculate that.”
Tyrus turned back to Annon. “Your mother saved my life. I would not have survived the Scourgelands without her. I seek to do her memory justice. To finish what we started. I need a Druidecht. I need you, Annon. We cannot succeed without you.”
Annon felt a flush of pride. He nodded firmly.
Tyrus turned to the other Vaettirs in the room. “Khiara. We learned quickly in the Scourgelands that we should have brought a Shaliah with us. We were all wounded. Many were killed. With your skills, more would have survived. We need a healer. We need someone who can raise our spirits when we are depressed. Your family comes from ancient stock. You are strong in the keramat. You are also needed most desperately in this journey. There is much you can accomplish if your heart is true.” Khiara nodded bravely but said nothing.
Annon looked at the stern-faced prince. His expression was hard, his look almost defiant.
“My friend,” Tyrus said. “You were a lad when we last faced the horrors of the Scourgelands. You wish you had died with us. Instead, you have trained to be able to face the dangers this time. Your courage is without peer…”
“Say no more,” the prince said, holding up his hand to forestall him. “I go.”
Tyrus smiled, relieved. He turned at last to Paedrin, who had stood strangely quiet. Annon always remembered him as being jaunty and opinionated. He was staring at Tyrus with a look so intense it bordered on hatred. The look was confusing. It was not what Annon expected. Why? What had he expected? He felt a little growl inside of Nizeera.
“And you, Paedrin. Your master swore he would accompany me on the next journey, or train one to fulfill his vow. The Bhikhu Aboujaoude was from your temple and he perished on the journey. He died so that Annon and Hettie would live. I need you as well. Your master told me of a sword stolen by a pupil. A pupil known as Cruw Reon. I need you to find that sword and use it in the Scourgelands to defend us. With it, you can restore the Shatalin temple from the dishonor of Cruw Reon.”
Tyrus breathed heavily, as if each word was a burden. “You are all already tangled in this web. The spider comes. Either we work together or we all die separately. The Arch-Rike will unleash all of his terrible power to stop us. Kiranrao—you must alert the Romani of the Arch-Rike’s treachery. You will find evidence of the treaty in Wayland to prove my words. Then do what you must to disrupt the Arch-Rike’s minions outside of the city. Annon—you, Erasmus, and Khiara must seek the oracle of Basilides as I told you to do. Gain the information I asked and return here. Hettie—help Paedrin claim the sword. You are a Romani. You have been trained to steal. The blade was stolen by Cruw Reon but it cursed him. He will no longer even touch it. You must steal it from the Shatalin temple.”
He turned to the prince. “Our task lies south, in Stonehollow. Do you have the stones?”
“I do,” the prince replied firmly. “We must depart at once.”
“And what is your task?” Kiranrao asked, pushing away from the wall. “Tell me all, or I will have no part of this scheme. You have left a few pieces of the puzzle off the table.”
Tyrus smiled grimly. “I did. It is not for you to know all the pieces.”
“You seek another to join then? Or another magic to aid the quest?”
“It is the same. There is one with an ancient magic I seek. One more to join this quest.”
“Who?”
“I cannot tell you.”
Kiranrao scowled. His eyes were livid with rage. “Then take your schemes and perish in the wilderness. I serve no man. Either I am a full partner or I am none.”
