The Autumn Prince

2. Fool's Gold

"Callista, your grandmother, died giving birth to Janet and her sister. Her father was killed before she reached adulthood." My heart skipped at the thought that I might have an aunt, but that hope collapsed as quickly as it appeared. "Your mother's twin, Jennifer, became ill and died as a young child. They had no extended family."

"Nobody?"

"Callista had an estranged cousin who has since passed, but no others I am aware of. Your grandfather's parents also perished before he reached adulthood."

"My family doesn't sound very lucky."

"Your family has endured," she answered, cryptic and distant.

My head spun with more questions, but I needed time to articulate them in my brain, time that was quickly running out. I tried to ask something open-ended so she'd volunteer more information than the question alone implied. It was a trick I learned from my therapist years ago, but I wasn't very good at it.

"My mother's name was Janet Lane?"

She nodded.

"I have my father's last name then."

"No, you do not."

The relief I expected didn't come. "Then what was it?" The purpose of my question came into focus even as I asked, but the woman understood it even quicker.

"I will not tell you that."

"Why not?"

"What would you do with the information?"

I didn't answer because we both knew. I'd Google him for a start, try to find him. The real question was, what would I do if I succeeded? She seemed to follow my thoughts and dismissed them with a bored smile.

"Okay," I said, "then what is Corwen? Did you just make that up when you dropped me off or was it assigned?" When the state bestowed a name it was usually something common, like Smith or Jones.

"That was my contribution, the name of a good man I once knew. It is derived from an Irish word that means, 'Friend of my Heart.' "

"Irish?"

"It is fitting," she replied. "Your mother's father was from Galway."

"But why Corwen? I get that you wouldn't give me my father's last name, but why not Lane, after my mother?"

"As I have said, I believed it best that you remain ignorant of your past. If I am cautious with my information now, how much more should I have been with a small child?"

I was emboldened by the fact that she made an effort to justify herself. It made me feel more in control. An illusion, maybe, but a welcome one.

"Why?"

"Many true answers will reveal more questions than they settle. I will not indulge the subject further at this time." She said it kindly, but her tone was firm.

"Fine," I replied after a brief pause. "You seem to know a lot about my father. You won't tell me his last name and you said his first wasn't Caelan."

"That is correct."

"What's his true name?"

Her eyebrows rose and she hesitated. "That is a very interesting way to put it, but yes, I think I can tell you that much. It is Caratacos." She said it with an accent that made it hard to understand.

"What now?"

"Ca-RAH-ta-kos," she sounded it out. "It is an ancient and powerful name."

It sounded weirdly familiar, summoning a memory from my childhood. I strained to gather stray thoughts and snapped my fingers repeatedly, trying to jar it loose. Something about a car...