Taylin stormed out of her and Mureln’s bedroom, hands on her hips. “Emil na’Zhekali! Where are you? I swear, I will tan your hide when I get a hold of you.” Seeing no one in the dormitory, she headed down the tunnel in search of the gypsy man. “What are you teaching my son? He is too young to learn about brothels!”

With Izkynder settled on his hip, Mureln walked out of the bedroom, his expression bemused. “Mama mad,” the boy observed.

“Yes, she is.” The master bard wagged a finger. “Just because you know how to make her angry does not mean you should.”

One of the other doors squeaked as it opened a crack. “Is she gone?” Emil asked in a quiet voice.

“For now,” Mureln assured. “She should be calmer by the time she returns.” His regard held no sympathy. “I warned you not to talk about pleasure houses in front of Izkynder. He is not only a sponge but a mirror for everything he observes around him.”

The wiry gypsy walked into the main room, holding his hands out helplessly. “He ain’t that old. Like, what? A year? I know you Vodani grow up faster than us and Desanti faster still! I dinna think he understood!” Behind him, Emaris snorted and shook his head. The smaller man scowled over his shoulder. “Ye don’t need ta add yer two coppers, ye lunk.”

“Emil lunk!” the boy crowed, clapping his hands.

The wiry gypsy stared at him. The men unable to repress their laughter. He put his hands on his hips, trying to look angry but failed miserably. “Yer gonna keep us all on our toes, ain’t ye, lad?” Izkynder smiled charmingly. “He be yer boy, Mureln. No doubt about it.”

Emil thumped his brother’s shoulder. “C’mon, I wanna visit Itena t’day. Gods know when Storm an’ Ash’ll decide it’ll be time t’ head out. It’s gotta be b’fore the weather starts gettin’ cold again.” He mock shivered. “Jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout winter travelin’ makes me want Itena t’ warm me up. Bet ye want yer lass warmin’ ye up, too, eh?” The mute giant nodded, happily following his smaller brother out into the tunnel.

The bard studied the youngster, continuing to wear a smile. “Indeed he is my son.” He leaned close to kiss the boy’s cheek, pausing to murmur in his ear. “Hide how much you know if you want, but do not pretend to be stupid.”

Izkynder looked at his father, pure curiosity in his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because people can get very angry when they find out you are smart, especially if you are smarter than them.”

“Why?”

“Oh, there are lots of reasons.” He shifted the boy to ride piggyback. “Mostly because they don’t like feeling tricked. Many trust what they see on the outside is what is on the inside, too. When you pretend to be stupid instead of just hiding your intelligence, and then they find out you are smart, possibly smarter than them, they think you were mocking them.”

The boy frowned, pursing his lips. “I don’t mean to make fun of anyone. That makes heart owies and I don’t like those.”

Mureln smiled. “I know. I don’t like them, either.”

The two rounded a bend and stepped out onto one of the upper ledges where a spring-fed fountain poured over into another farther below. Izkynder asked, “Will Mama hate Uncle Emil because of me?”

“Hate him?” The man shifted to let his son slide down to the edge of the pool. “I don’t think so.” The pair sat on the thick grass, looking out toward the distant World Spine mountain range. “But we don’t want her mad at him all the time, or she might like him less and less.”

Izkynder pursed his lips. “That’s bad. Emil is family. Family should love family. That is what Aunt Storm and Uncle Ash say.”

Mureln leaned back on his hands, crossing his ankles. He smiled when his son imitated his pose. “Family always loving family would be ideal, yes. It doesn’t always happen like that though. Not everyone is perfect. But neither of them really had families, so they never had anything but dreams of having one of their own. Dreams have a bad habit of being without flaws.”

“Bad things killed their families.” He crossed his arms. “I hate the bad things.” He looked up at Mureln. “Aren’t we their family now?”

The bard chuckled. “It’s rather complicated. I’ll explain it to you after I understand all of it better myself.”

Chin jutting out, Izkynder scrutinized his father, his eyes sparkling with gold flecks, similar to Skyfire when he focused on his spiritwalker vision. He sighed dramatically. “Oh, okay,” he finally agreed. He rolled over, picking at the grass. “Would everyone hate me if they knew how weird I was?”

“Weird in what way?” Mureln returned, with a maddening serenity.

The boy flopped onto his back. “I’m growing up too fast. Especially here.” He tapped his temple. “They all talk about it when they think I’m not listening. Mama worries about how she’ll explain me to everyone when we leave. And Aunt Storm and Uncle Skyfire always act like they did something horrible and feel bad about it.” He sat up, hugging his knees against his chest. “I wish I was never born, then no one would be unhappy.”

Mureln’s easygoing expression evaporated, and he moved closer to his son, pulling him into a one-armed embrace. “Shards, Izkynder, don’t think that way. No one is unhappy because of you. They’re unhappy because of themselves. And staying here longer than we had intended is only giving them time to feel unhappier because they focus on what they think they did wrong.”

The boy looked up with a frown. “I don’t understand. They didn’t do anything wrong.” He tugged the blood crystal pendant out. “If Aunt Storm and Uncle Skyfire hadn’t protected me and Mama, then Uncle Almek would have died. That would have been bad because that would make the Timeless One real sad. It’s not good when gods are sad. Uncle Emil said so.”

The man’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Uncle Emil can be very wise when he lets himself.” Mureln hugged the boy tighter for a moment. “They love you very, very much and want you to have a better childhood than them.” He leaned closer to stage whisper, “You know Aunt Storm challenged Uncle Tyrsan when he was Dulain and chased off the midwife? All because they talked about taking you away after you were born?”

His eyes went very wide. “She did?”

“Mm hm. She didn’t get to be a child very long, and sometimes she couldn’t save other children from bad things.” He tapped the blood crystal. “You were important to both her and Uncle Skyfire. Enough they were willing to give their own lives to protect you so you could be born. They very nearly did. After your mother saved Almek, they almost didn’t wake up again.”

The boy’s eyes widened. He looked down at the pendant he cradled. “I am glad they didn’t die,” he said in a small voice.

“We all are.” He kissed the top of his son’s hair lightly. “We all are.”

“So why is everyone unhappy? Uncle Almek is okay and Mama is okay and Aunt Storm and Uncle Skyfire are okay and I am okay…I don’t understand.”

Mureln quirked a wry smile. “Because they think they might have done something wrong because everything they did to keep you safe made you different. Not that different is bad,” he said before Izkynder could speak. “But none of them had happy childhoods. If they realized how fast you are growing up, they might believe they stole your childhood away, too. A time when you can feel safe and protected and play without a worry in the world. At least, that is the ideal they imagine childhood to be. And that is why they feel bad.”

“You don’t? Uncle Emil told the Unsvet guardsmen that I was born because you weren’t paying attention.” Mureln arched an eyebrow. “He wasn’t lying! I checked.”

“Just because I wasn’t paying attention doesn’t mean I didn’t want you. And no, I don’t feel bad you are growing up so fast.” He put his hand over his heart. “It means more to me that I didn’t lose you at all. Growing up doesn’t mean never playing or not being silly. It just means knowing when you need to be serious.”

“Like you, Papa?”

Mureln pulled Izkynder into a full on bear hug, making him squeak and then squirm with peals of laughter as he tickled him. “Like me, my son.” He looked into the boy’s eyes. “We have to teach the others what we both know. Fun is not age restricted. And neither is responsibility. Okay?” Izkynder smiled brightly and nodded vigorously. “Good.”