Erasmus whistled. “Silvandom. It is too beautiful to describe. The timber here is worth a fortune.”
“Many poets have tried to describe it,” Tyrus said. “And many Romani have tried to steal it. It’s protected by the mountains on all sides. Only a few narrow passes lead into the valley. See the cliff edges? This valley was carved by ice thousands of years ago. Giant walls of ice strong enough to split stone. See that bald rock face over there? The other half is there, on the opposite side.”
Annon saw it and was skeptical. How could ice have carved such a thing? The cliffs on each side were full of waterfalls, emptying into rivers and streams in the valley below. It was an idyllic place. No wonder the Vaettir had claimed it.
“That is the Shearwater,” Tyrus said. “We can rest and eat there and then journey to the city later. You have questions, I am sure. Hopefully they are good ones.”
Tyrus took them to the stone house on the far side of the bridge. He paused on the entryway, staring up at a blotchy stain on the wood frame at the top of the door. Annon wondered about the stain, noticing Tyrus’s slight pause on observing it. He rapped firmly on the door and then pushed it open.
Inside was a tiny Vaettir woman, her hair well silvered; she walked with an obvious shuffle caused by age and pain. She looked at Tyrus and smiled a beaming smile and began to prattle off in the Vaettir tongue. Tyrus answered fluently, much to Annon’s surprise. He made some requests and then motioned toward a table and benches. The old woman nodded in reply and limped to the kitchen. No one else was in the room.
Tyrus seated himself at the table, planting his elbows on the pocked wood, and motioned for Annon to sit across from him. Nizeera wandered over to a large hearth and settled down on the warm stone.
Erasmus prowled around the common room, silently counting the number of seats and tables. Annon knew he would be lost in his guessing for a while. He sat down opposite Tyrus, unsure of what even to say. Then a thought came to him.
“My mother’s name was Merinda,” Annon said softly, remembering it suddenly. “I only heard you say it once. She was not your sister.”
Tyrus shook his head. “No.”
Annon felt weary. The emotions of the night were still thrumming beneath the surface. “You led me to believe she was. I grew up believing I was your nephew. Why did you deceive me?”
“Why do you think?” Tyrus asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You promised me answers.”
“You must earn them. You were kissed by a Dryad, Annon. I see it in your countenance. You have new gifts of insight and wisdom. Use them. Open your mind to the possibilities. Trust what your heart tells you. You already know the answer. You cannot be lazy with me. Think.”
Annon rubbed the rounded edge of the table. It was a light, stained wood. Easily twenty men could sit around it. “You protected me from my mother. She was sick. She used the magic without controlling it. You took me away from her to protect me. But I have no recollection of my sister. Why is that?”
Tyrus nodded slowly. “You would not. She was stolen nearly at birth by a Romani midwife who did not realize there were twins. Neither did I. I did not have the knowledge I needed at the time. I could have saved Hettie and lost you to death in the birthing process. Or save your life and lose Hettie to the Romani. It was a terrible choice.” His face was like flint. “But I chose to save you and lose her. The story I told to the locals was that Merinda was my sister. Which is one of the reasons the Romani kidnapped Hettie in order to blackmail me.”
“Surely you did not lack for ducats,” Annon said tightly.
“Not ducats,” he answered. “Freedom.”
“I do not understand.”
“No. Of course you do not. It took me years to understand that I was a prisoner in Kenatos. Granted, it was a gilded cage. But a cage still. Whenever I tested the limits of my freedom, I felt the bonds around me cinch tighter. Allow me to explain, Annon. I must tell someone, for the Arch-Rike is determined to kill me. I know too much. I pass this knowledge on to you in case I am murdered. Someone else needs to understand the pieces. I have chosen you.”