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“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 of travel out of doors. A Druidecht would be useful, so I sent Reeder to find you before she leaves tomorrow.”
