Page 134 of Keldori By Daybreak

“Maxwell Brenton, PhD,” Ferrin recited. “Renowned geophysicist with a concentration in paleomagnetism. Acclaimed Von Leer University alumnus.”

“And not much of a dad,” I sniffed. “He would rather I didn’t exist and spent the last eighteen years pretending that was the case.”

“But you still care enough not to want him to turn rotsbane.”

“Not really. I’ve only met him once.” I looked up at my father. This version of him looked just like his real self, which I found more annoying than anything. He looked too much like me. “Besides, if you turn him into a rotsbane, he’ll tear up your camp and drink up all your Skal.”

“Then I guess the question is do you care about your estranged father more than I care about my Skal.” Ferrin’s grin glinted in the light of the Skal on his belt. “And darling Wren, you were seen crying as you exited Maxwell Brenton’s lecture at Von Leer the night before your interview with me.”

My cheeks burned. Ferrin had done his research then.

“So?”

“So, most of us don’t cry over the people who mean nothing to us.”

The air snapped with electrical magick, and my father’s Nightmare grunted as Ferrin transferred magick into his body.

“Stop!” I cried out. It took everything in me to not break through the Skal that bound my wrists.

“See?” Ferrin simpered. The magick ebbed, and Maxwell straightened up, his face still passive but a green aura shifted on the air around him, and the veins in his wrists looked darker. “I read your admissions essay. It was good. Better than most the essays I read for work, but girls don’t write so scathingly about daddies they don’t care about.”

My nostrils flared, and Ferrin forced more magick into my father. Bones snapped, and his form started to shift.

“Stop!”

“Then tell me what I want to know!” Ferrin bellowed.

“You already know everything! There’s a secret way to Keldori. We’re going to use it to reseal the Rift from the other side. I gave myself up to your army before we found out where to go next.”

“And why were you in Willow’s Grave? What brought you here?”

“Convenience. It’s the first major city we came across after leaving the mountains. We needed healers.”

Maxwell grunted at the surge of magick and fell to his knees as more bones and joints splintered.

“Ciarán?” I strained against the Skal bonds around my wrists as I cried out for him along our tether. “Please tell me you’re almost ready.”

“Hold him just a moment more, Wren!”

“He’s going to kill my dad!”

“She’s lying.” Caitria spoke up from her table. “We found them in a library. An old Lyrian named Lysanor ran the place.”

“Lysanor?” Ferrin cackled. “Not Galahad’s cousin Lysanor?”

“The very one,” Caitria purred.

“And what did you want from Lysanor, Just-Wren? What did she know?”

The journal was still there. Ferrin had the resources in Keldori to translate it.

I clamped my mouth shut.

Maxwell roared as magick coursed through him, turning his hands dark and elongating his fingers into claws.

“Come now, Wren!” Ferrin called. “If you let your father turn rotsbane, he’ll definitely never love you!”

“Stop it!”