Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen) by Jeff Wheeler Read Free Book Online

“Here?” His heart suddenly panged with regret and longing. He had a sister?
    “Not my tower, but here in the city. She is staying at the Bhikhu temple nearby, one that I occasionally squander ducats to support. Hettie can buy her freedom, you see. For one lump sum, she can purchase her freedom forever and no longer have to wear the earring. Of course, you understand that the sum will be outrageous. I am rather famous.” He gave Annon a sidelonglook. “Here is what I propose. I have no wish to see her sold as a wife or whatever someone may desire her for. But the price is set on one’s ability to pay it. I cannot be involved in the deal or the price will be much higher.”
    “But you
are
involved,” Annon said, frustrated. “They no doubt believe she is here. They will attempt to extort you again.”
    “As I told you, I am unwilling to settle the account myself. If I do not bid for her, then the price will be more reasonably set.”
    “You would have me do it?” Annon said, a sour smile on his mouth.
    “How many ducats do you own, pray tell?” Tyrus chuffed to himself, wagging his finger over a globe as it continued to try and sting him with its spark-like light. “No, I was not thinking that at all. There is another way to buy her freedom. I know many things, being here in the tower. Many things that were whispered of in the past. There was another Paracelsus long ago, you know. A Cruithne, if you believe it, named Drosta. He was a good man. He left a great treasure in the mountains. The Romani learned of it and have been searching for it.”
    Again he paused, tending the globes one by one. His eyebrow arched as he looked at Annon.
    “You know where it is?”
    “I know a man who knows where it is,” he replied cryptically. “And I know the key words that will open the door to it. The man is not in Kenatos, but lives in the east, in Havenrook. I have told your sister about him and encouraged her to seek Drosta’s treasure to buy her freedom. Do not call me sentimental. You know I am not.” He continued to look at the globes and methodically covered each with a velvet shroud. “As I said, she is staying at the temple orphanage, the Bhikhu temple. I have asked the master to send someone to protect her on her journey. I thought you might want to know this, as their journey will require a great deal oftravel out of doors. A Druidecht would be useful, so I sent Reeder to find you before she leaves tomorrow.”
    Annon slid his finger along the smooth wood of the desk, staring at one of the little globes that was still uncovered. He reached his finger toward it, and the wisp of light responded immediately, throbbing into several shades of color: blue, then purple, and then lavender.
    “What are these?” Annon asked, his finger nearly touching the glass. “They seem sentient.”
    “If you ask a Druidecht about his craft, he will say it is merely Druidecht and nothing more. Do you expect a Paracelsus to be any different? Please do not touch the glass. They are fragile things.”
    Annon was tempted to. He stared at the color and the comforting shade. Was it merely a bauble, some craft intended to delight a wealthy man’s little girl? His finger nearly grazed it.
    “Where is the Bhikhu temple?” Annon asked simply.
    Tyrus gave him a knowing smile.
    Annon frowned. He had the very real feeling that he was being manipulated. “You are withholding too much of the story from me. There is much more to this than you are saying.”
    Tyrus steepled his fingers over his mouth. “I can only reveal so much at this time. For your own sake. You will have to trust me. Maybe later I will be able to explain what you wish to know.”
    “Trust you? That is a bold request. How can I possibly trust you? Surely there is something else you can give me. At least tell me why you did not tell me before.”
    He shook his head. “I cannot. I have spent far too much time already. You do not understand the nature of my obligations