‘When I am finally free,’ he said in a voice revealing strain, ‘I will be able to physically touch you, Kettle. My fingers upon your brow. And then I will have your answer.’ ‘I guess this Eres was my real mother.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And soon you will know who my father is.’ ‘I will know his blood, yes. At the very least.’ ‘I wonder if he’s still alive.’ ‘Knowing how Eres plays the game, lass, he might not even be your father yet. She wanders time, Kettle, in a manner no-one else can even understand, much less emulate. And this is very much her world. She is the fire that never dies.’ He paused, then
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