Sodar shook his head, though some of the colour had returned to his face. ‘I know the pedlar, Crag, and it’s possible I knew the witch, long ago, but the feurog … I know nothing of them.’ He frowned. ‘How many were there?’
‘Three. We killed two and the third fled. She was in no condition to follow us, so we let her go. I took the ears as Tosan’s proof, led Crag back to the Brake Road, and ran home.’
Sodar breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Crag is alive then. And these ears … they’ll earn you your title. Brilliant. Wonderful.’ He paused. ‘How much did Crag tell you?’
‘Not enough. Said it wasn’t his place to reveal your secrets.’
Sodar stroked his beard, pensive. ‘That was … thoughtful of him. Uncharacteristically so.’ He chewed his lip. ‘Did he say why he came to the village?’
‘No, but he left this for you.’ Annev pulled out the letter he’d found stashed near the standing stones. Sodar took it, examining the seal.
‘You didn’t try to read it?’ Annev shook his head and Sodar pocketed the envelope. ‘Thank you, son. You must be tired.’
‘I’m exhausted. I’m hungry, too, though.’
‘Say no more.’ Sodar passed him a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of water. Annev drank the water in one gulp, and Sodar refilled the cup and tidied the room while Annev ate. He sheathed Mercy and set it beside Sraon’s axe, then wrapped the feurog’s ears in a scrap of linen, burning the sticky leaves that had packaged the gruesome trophies. That done, he examined the remains of the shredded glove, tsked, and tossed them into the fire as well, confirming Annev’s suspicions that the garment was unsalvageable. He would have to be doubly careful at the Academy now, particularly around Narach and his scrying stones.
When Annev had finished his meal, he set his bowl aside and looked at Sodar. ‘If I sleep now, can we talk afterwards?’
‘Of course.’
‘I mean really talk. Crag said you have a habit of keeping secrets from people – and keeping them longer than you should. Well, I want to know everything you’ve kept from me. Everything about my parents, about Crag and Arnor, the wood-witch. I need to know, now.’
Sodar studied Annev. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Annev?’
Annev hesitated. ‘To become an avatar, I also have to leave the chapel and move into the Academy … immediately.’
‘I see.’
‘It was after the Test of Judgement.’ Annev felt he had to explain. ‘Tosan thinks I’m too influenced by you. He was going to make me a steward and never let me out of the Academy, but then he gave me one last chance to prove myself – and I did it. I’ve got the ears and the supplies he wanted, so he should give me my title, but I still have to leave the chapel … and I don’t think he’ll let me see you.’
The priest gave a slow, silent nod. ‘I suppose I knew this day would come. I had hoped … well, never mind what I had hoped. I’ve been fortunate to spend as long with you as I have.’ He smiled, though Annev feared he was weeping inside.
‘Sleep, Annev. And then I will tell you everything.’
Chapter Forty-Three
‘You must never repeat any of this,’ Sodar began, when Annev had woken from his nap. ‘The Academy only reveals this to master avatars, and then in strict confidence.’ Sodar cleared his throat. ‘What the ancients told you about your parents – what they tell all the boys at the Academy – is a lie. Your parents do not give you away to be trained. When the witwomen go on reapings, they steal infants from their cribs.’
‘I guessed as much,’ Annev said, unsurprised. ‘Where did I come from? Which town?’
‘They stole the other boys. But you were not born in Luqura or Banok. You were born here, in Chaenbalu.’
‘Here?’ Annev blinked, trying to take it all in. ‘I was born here? But how …’
‘You were born here,’ Sodar continued, ‘with one hand. Your parents were killed and the witwomen took you to the woods to be eaten by wild animals.’
Annev nodded, knowing the ritual. ‘So how am I still alive?’
‘I saved you. I followed the witwomen to the woods and found them arguing over you – more than arguing. They were trying to kill each other. One of the women wanted to kill you, there and then, while the other wanted to take you away. The first woman was Myjun’s mother – she died in the Brake – and I believe you met the second witwoman yesterday.’
‘She was the wood-witch,’ Annev breathed.
‘That is my guess. She was called Kelga, and she said she’d been hiding, waiting for you. She had a little magic. Not Darite, either. Something darker. Terran, I think.’ It sounded plausible to Annev.
‘What happened to her?’
‘Myjun’s mother blinded her, negating Kelga’s ability to return to Chaenbalu. I expected her to die in the Brake – or, by Odar’s mercy, to find a way out of the wood and start a new life – but perhaps she’s been lurking in the woods these past seventeen years … perhaps something kept her there.’
‘Me,’ Annev said, with certainty. ‘She said she’d been waiting a long time for me. She said others were searching for me, too.’
Sodar nodded. ‘Crag’s letter said something similar. He wanted to warn me – to warn us – you were being hunted.’
‘Hunted?’ Annev shook his head. ‘But I’m nobody. I’ve never even left the village. Why would anyone search for me? How would they even know me?’
Sodar smiled. ‘That is exactly the kind of secret that I’ve been trying to keep from you – the kind that becomes a burden once you learn the truth.’ He paused. ‘Do you still want to know? This is your last chance to remain ignorant – to be a boy for a little while longer.’
‘I stopped being a boy when I killed that witch – when I killed Kelga.’
‘Yes … yes, I suppose you did.’ They sat in silence for a long moment, then Sodar sighed. ‘I’m sorry about that, Annev. I should have executed her when I had the chance. Had I known she would remain a threat …’ He shook his head. ‘I suppose I was too focused on saving you, on hiding that deformity.’
‘How did you do that?’ Annev interrupted. ‘Neither of the witwomen went back to the village. If you arrived with a one-armed infant, they would have stoned you, too.’ Sodar inclined his head in agreement.
‘I had to hide you in my chapel for a bit. Then I broke into the Vault of Damnation and stole that magic arm you’re wearing.’
Annev removed the crimson phoenix glove and looked down at his naked left arm: all signs of the injury had almost completely faded now, and he marvelled at how quickly the prosthetic could heal itself. He tried to imagine Sodar skulking around in the bowels of the Academy, bypassing its traps and breaking into the Vault – a place Annev had never even seen, let alone entered. He flexed his fingers, imagining Sodar searching the Academy’s dusty shelves for a prosthetic arm – for anything that would save a baby’s life – and he found a new respect for his mentor.
Annev made a fist and looked up. Sodar nodded, taking that as his cue to continue. ‘When the arm attached itself, you looked like any other infant, and a few weeks later I sneaked you into the reap from Luqura.’