His father looked down to the ground, and his expression softened.
“Your mother died in childbirth with you. I told you that already.”
But he would not meet Thor’s eyes when he said it, and Thor sensed he was not being truthful. Thor was more sensitive now, he could feel things more deeply, and he could feel that his father was lying.
“I know what you told me,” Thor said, strong. “Now I want the truth.”
His father looked up at him, and Thor could see his expression change once again.
“Who have you spoken to?” his father asked. “What have they told you? Who has gotten to you?”
“I want the truth,” Thor demanded. “Once and for all. No more lies. Who was my mother? And why did you hide it from me?”
Thor’s father stared at him, long and hard, and finally, after several moments of thick silence, he gave in. His eyes drooped, and he looked like an old man.
“I guess there is no point in keeping it from you anymore,” he answered. “Your mother did not die in childbirth. It was a story I made up, to keep you from asking questions. Your mother is alive. She lives far from here.”
Thor felt energized. He knew it to be true, but hearing it from his own father made it real.
“In the land of the Druids?” Thor pressed.
His father’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“Who told you?” he asked.
“She is a Druid, isn’t she?” Thor asked. “Which means I am half-Druid? I’m not entirely human?”
“Yes,” his father admitted. “It was not information I wanted spreading around this village.”
“And is that why you were always ashamed of me?” Thor asked. “Because my mother was of another race?”
His father looked away, frustrated.
“Tell me, then,” Thor pressed, “how did you know her? Why did you divorce her? Why was I not raised by her? Why was I raised by you?”
His father shook his head, again and again.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Tell me!” Thor demanded, yelling, fists bunched in rage, using a fiercer voice with his father than he ever had in his life.
For the first time in his life, he saw his father afraid.
His father looked back, and finally, slowly, said:
“You are not mine.”
Thor looked back, trembling with rage, trying to understand his words.
“I am not your father,” he added. “I never was. I just raised you as my own.”
Thor’s heart pounded in his chest as the words sunk in, the words of this man whom he had once thought to be his father. His felt his world shaking all around him. And suddenly, it all made sense. For the first time in his life, it all made sense.
This man was not his father.
“Then who is?” Thor asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I never met him. I only met your mother once. Briefly. She left you, as a baby, put you in my arms. I had been with the flock, at the top of the mountain. And she had appeared, holding you. She had said that I was to raise you. That you had a great destiny, and that I was destined to be your caretaker. She was the most beautiful and powerful woman I had ever laid eyes upon. She was not of this world. I went weak at the sight of her. I would have done anything she’d asked for. I took you in my arms. And then she disappeared.
“I was left holding you, alone on the mountaintop, and as soon as she’d left, I’d wondered why I had taken you. When she had gone, my senses cleared. But I was stuck with you.”
It hurt Thor to hear these words, but at the same time, for once in his life, it all rang true.
But this still didn’t explain who his real father was. Or why this man had been chosen to raise him.
“Before she left, she gave me one command. She told me that on the day you found out about her, I was to give you something.”
He turned and strutted across the small yard, to a shed, and Thor followed him inside.
He knelt down on its wood floor, used his big beefy palm to swipe it of dust, and revealed a hidden compartment. He blew on it, revealing a latch, then turned it and hoisted it with all his might. A foot thick, he slowly raised it, and ancient air came out, along with a small cloud of dust. It looked as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
He reached in up to his elbow, fished around, then grabbed something and pulled it out. Thor knelt there, opposite him, and he held a small leather sack in his palm, covered in dust. He blew on it, and handed it to Thor.
Thor gently opened and reached into the sack. He felt a piece of parchment, rolled up, and took it out and unrolled it.
He could not believe it. It was his mother’s handwriting. He felt a thrill as he read it:
My dearest Thorgrin:
On the day that you read this, you will already be a man. I am so sorry that I left you. But it was for a good reason. Fate has its own way of unfolding, and on the day that we meet, you will understand.
Inside this sack are two pieces of jewelry-both of which you will need to save your life. The first is a ring, which you must give to the one you love. The second is a necklace, which you must wear. It will lead you to your father. And to me.
I love you with everything that I am, and I weep every day I do not see you.
Your mother.
Hands trembling, Thor reached into the sack and first pulled out a ring. His breath was taken away: it was a large diamond ring, flawless, with rubies and sapphires all around the band. It was the most spectacular piece of jewelry he had ever seen. He then reached in and pulled out the necklace. The chain was bejeweled with diamonds and sapphires and rubies, and from it hung the emblem of a falcon, carved in black amethyst.
Thor reached back and put on the necklace, and he could feel its power throbbing immediately through his chest. He felt comforted by it. Protected. He felt, for the first time, as if he was close to his mother.
Thor tucked the scroll and the diamond ring safely inside his shirt, and as he put it away, his thought turned to only one person.
Gwendolyn.
Give it to the one you love.
“That is all I have for you,” he said, standing.
Thor stood, too.
“So you see,” he said, “you have no more business here. You have received what you’ve come to find.”
Thor looked back up at this pathetic man, who had once loomed so large for him. He felt a deep sadness.
“Before I leave, tell me one thing,” Thor said. “Did you ever have any love for me? Any at all?”
Thor needed to know. For his own sake. For some reason, it was important to him.
Slowly, sadly, the man shook his head.
“I wish I could say that I did,” he said solemnly. “But my life was my three boys. They are who mattered to me. You were always a burden to me. To this entire family. If you want the truth, there it is.”
Slowly, sadly, Thor nodded, realizing it was the truth, and grateful, at least for that. If this man could not give him anything else in life, at least he could give him that.
“Do not worry,” Thor said, preparing to leave. “I shall never burden you-ever again.”
Thor turned and walked out the shed, across the man’s yard, back to his horse.
As he mounted it and began to ride away, out of this village for the last time in his life, he could have sworn he heard something behind him, could have sworn he heard the man call out. He could have sworn he heard the man call his name, longingly, apologetically, one last time.
But as the noise of the horses’ hooves rose up, Thor could not be entirely sure.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Reece’s heart was pounding as he made his way across the small village of Sulpa, on his way to see Selese. He wiped his sweating palms on his pants yet again and realized he hadn’t been this nervous in as long as he could remember. He had procrastinated from seeing her for the better part of the morning, joining his brothers as they rebuilt the town gate. As the first sun had grown high in the sky, he had continued to lose himself in the chain line, handing off large blocks of stone, passing them down the line, then helping his brothers mortar them in the wall. By the time the second sun had risen the wall had grown nearly four feet high, thanks to all of their labor, and when they all finally took a break, he realized the time had come. He could put it off no longer. He had been distracted the entire time with thoughts of her, and he had to confront his fear.