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   Chapter 65 No.65

The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 4945

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:02


'Are you ok?' Shawn asked him.

'Yeah.'

'Good.'

Farrell glanced over at Shawn.

'How have you been keeping these last few years?'

'You're asking me this now?' Shawn rolled onto his side. 'Do you really want to know?'

'Why wouldn't I?'

'Well' Shawn replied. 'You've hardly spoken to me or my family since my father died.'

As Shawn continued to speak, Farrell's mood began to sink.

'I know it was hard for you' Shawn went on, 'but Arlen didn't give into grief.'

Farrell fell silent. He jerked his head away in annoyance; then looked back at Shawn.

'How is Gracie doing? I hear she's recently married.'

'She is' Shawn replied, allowing the subject to be changed. 'Her husband is a merchant, a wealthy one at that. I hear they're doing quite well together. She lives far away now, but visits us often.'

Farrell felt his heart dampen as he thought of his own daughter, and he struggled to fight against the wave of despair and misery that threatened to engulf him as he thought of the seemingly impossible task he was faced with. Searching for someone who was a child when they were taken over ten years ago, she would have changed drastically over that time. She would surely be unrecognisable from the little girl he had known. The little girl who used to run up and down the stairs, playing with that silly little bird whose name he had long since forgotten. And then a thought struck him that cut into his heart.

What if she doesn't recognise me?

How could he possibly succeed in his task?

'How old is she now?' Farrell continued, speaking to Shawn and forcing his negative thoughts down.

'She's twenty.'

They talked, catching up on all that had happened to them over the years in what little time they had. They spoke of many things, and it didn't feel like too long afterwards, that there came a knock on their door. A figure entered, it was the same man as before, the one Farrell didn't trust.

He bowed his head to them, smiling shrewdly.

'Danior will see you now.'

The room they entered was ostentatious. It was small, though just like the rest of the rooms they had seen, no expense had been spared on it. Farrell and Shawn sat on the two seats placed before the desk at the back of the room. By the doorway stood a guard, unnecessarily heavily armoured, he stepped back as a figure entered the room, and sat in the large seat behind the desk. It was Danior, the man they had waited to see. Lean and muscul

ar, he dressed flamboyantly but modestly, with long sleeves and gloves which covered his hands. Farrell noticed light scarring around his face, similar to the scars he had seen worn by soldiers and veterans. He looked to be in his sixties, but had aged well. He was handsome, with black hair slicked back and a pointed beard.

'So' the wise man began leaning forward, 'what would you like me to help you with?'

'I am looking for someone' Farrell began hastily. 'We both are' he added, glancing briefly at Shawn beside him.

'Who is this person?'

'A girl' Farrell replied.

Danior lifted a quill and began to scribble some notes on a page before him. 'Do you know where she is?' he asked.

'No.'

'Where was she last seen?'

'I don't know.'

Danior hesitated. 'What does she look like?'

'I don't know' Farrell replied.

Danior looked Farrell in the eyes, brow coming down in mild annoyance as he lowered his quill.

'When did she go missing?'

'Twelve years ago.'

'And you're only just now looking for her?'

Farrell could think of no answer that was good enough to give. Danior groaned, sighing into his hand.

'Let me get this straight' he said leaning forward after a time. 'You haven't seen her in twelve years, you have no idea what she looks like, where she is, if she is even still in this country, and by the sound of it you don't even know if she's alive, and you wish to find this person. Is that correct?'

'It is' Farrell replied uncertainly.

'Let me ask you a question. Do you know anything about her?'

'Her name' Farrell said. 'It's Amaia….she's my daughter.'

'The girl with two fathers' Danior replied immediately.

'What?'

'Tell me' Danior said briskly, pushing his quill and paper to the side and rising from his chair. 'Why are you wasting my time like this?'

'Wait!' Farrell called after him as the man walked around his desk and began to stride away.

'He hasn't told you has he?' Danior shot turning back to him. 'Arlen. He already knows where Amaia is. He has done for years.'

The silence the wise man left Farrell in was one of utter shock.

Later that evening, Farrell entered Arlen's room.

Chapter Twenty Three

The Tired Men

'Why didn't you tell me?'

Arlen's shoulders tensed. He placed his hands slowly down upon the table he sat at, fingers splayed. He rose slowly.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Farrell repeated. 'Why didn't you tell me you already knew where she was?'

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