Vasi’s stomach dropped.
She hoped in rushing through the end that his thoughts would be led away from what she had so carefully omitted. But, as he could not hide from her, she could not hide from him either. Pressing her lips together, she turned away and began to rise.
“Eryk, it is getting late and I have an appointment with Aelani.”
He caught her arm and pulled her gently, but inexorably, back to him. “You said Tanith came to the Temple in the fall. When exactly?”
“I don’t precisely remember—”
His eyes blazed, “When, Vasi?”
Resigning herself to providing him the last pieces of the tale, she threw up her hands, “The end of Octem.”
“788?”
“Yes.”
“The twins were born the fourteenth of Janua, 789?”
“Yes, but as I said, I’d wager the Imperial treasury that they were born early. They were most likely conceived in Mai.”
“While attending Aelani’s coronation.” Eryk ground his teeth in frustration, “It shouldn’t have taken Tanith from Junn to Octem to get from Rowan to Cyril. That’s four months for a journey that takes, even walking, eight weeks. But where…?” He turned his eyes back to her and she could see in their depths that he knew she knew the answer.
“Old Tvan,” she whispered.
The answer clearly shocked him.
“By the Five, why would she go there?”
“The Zyrites believe that in Old Tvan, one can commune with spirits or engage in…dark magic. Things forbidden.”
“And you believe such superstitious blather?”
“I didn’t.”
“What changed your mind?” He was clearly skeptical and had pulled slightly away from her.
“When the first girl was finally born, it was near midnight and I knew from looking at Tanith that she was slipping away. For hours she had been delirious, talking nonsense, but then her thoughts seemed to clear. She demanded I give her the babe, even though I’d already told her she was gone. When I did, she pulled back the swaddling and looked down at that peaceful little face and smiled this smile that made her look a thousand years old. She said she was so sorry, but that they would be together soon. I took the child as her pains resumed and Enari was born less than a quarter hour later.” She hesitated.
“Goddess, Vasi. Just finish it!” Eryk sounded as exhausted as she suddenly felt.
“When Enari opened her eyes, every candle in the room snuffed out except for the one at the bedside and I swear to you there was something in the room with us. I took Enari to Tanith, happy to tell her that this daughter had survived, but I don’t think she even remembered I was present. She took Enari from my arms, and the last words she spoke were to her. I’ve never been able to make sense of them.”
“You said she’d been delirious.”
Vasi frowned. “Yes, but in that moment she was completely lucid, for just an instant.”
“What did she say?”
“I don’t know.”
Eryk rubbed his temples in exasperation. “Now you’re the one talking nonsense. You said she was lucid and she spoke. What did she say?”
“That’s just it, Eryk. It wasn’t Egali, nor any language I’ve heard spoken in the three kingdoms. I—” Here she balked, unwilling to lay open her deepest suspicions for the fear he would think she’d gone round the bend.
Eryk took both of her hands in his. They were trembling and clammy and he chafed them vigorously, trying to dispel their chill. “We’ve been friends a long time, and we have always been honest with one another.”
“Eryk, I think it was Vintyri.”
“Do you remember the exact words?”
“I’ll never forget them. ‘Dusan, gade a ak pe’teson chemen jan fi pa kapa. Fi nire eskaintza zure oparia. Fi zivot za tvoje, dra’jena.’.” Speaking the strange words caused a shudder to run through her and a chill draft whispered through the room around them.
“And then?”
“And then she was gone.”
“Puzzles within puzzles,” Eryk commented distractedly, rubbing his tired eyes.