But the discomfort in Lysander is becoming more obvious. He straightens, his gaze passing between the two of us.
There’s a moment of stiff silence.
Then, finally, Lysander answers. “He is my father. My creator.”
I glance at Avurm, whose eyes are wide in shock.
“You and Henri share the same creator?”
A growl rumbles in Lysander’s throat. “What does it matter? Our creator is the only thing that links us.Nothing more.”
Avrum steps in front of me, forming a wall between me and his friend. I don’t know why it matters either, but apparently to Avrum it does.
“You never told me this,” he snaps.
“My life is no concern of yours, Avrum.”
There’s another tense pause between them. Avrum’s glaring at him now, his anger at this news obvious.
“Like I said,” Lysander goes on, “we share a creator. That doesn’t mean I would call him brother.”
“Then why are you here?” he barks back.
“I needed a place to stay.”
From the tension in Avrum’s shoulders, he doesn’t believe him, and now I’m wondering if I should, either. I don’t know much about their kind, but it seems this information about Lysander and Henri sharing a creator isn’t good. It’s clear Avrum feels betrayed in some way.
“Will Malcolm be a threat to us?” Avrum asks him. “Better yet, willyoube?”
“I surely won’t,” Lysander says. “Whether these guests of Henri’s could be used to your benefit or not, I cannot say. They could provide a distraction for Henri, but they are far older than he, and therefore, far wiser. They could also make things difficult.”
I’m feeling ill again. If Lysander is much older than he looks, and he and Henri share a maker, does that mean they share a past, too?
“Who is Linna?” I throw the question at him, remembering the name Henri had used for me during his nonsensical ramblings.
Lysander looks taken aback suddenly. “Linna? Do you mean Lady Caroline Beatrum?”
“Who is she?” Avrum throws back before I can answer.
“She became Henri’s mother through marriage, and she became Henri’s lover not long after. Henri’s love for her was obsessive.”
His mother and his lover? Disgusting.
“Henri calls me Linna,” I mutter. “Why?”
Lysander’s gaze shifts between us. “It seems Henri has made a connection between you and her.”
Henri thinks I’m a woman born centuries ago? “I don’t understand… She must be dead by now. It was so long ago.”
He half-shrugs. “Henri is not of the most stable of minds. He may think Caroline has been reborn—”
“Through me?” I gasp. He took me from my home because of a past lover? “He’s raving mad, that’s what he is!”
“Completely.” Lysander nods.
Avrum turns his narrow eyes back to Lysander. “How do you know all this? I demand an explanation.”
Lysander’s lips press into a hard line. He doesn’t want to tell us.
