by Mike Truk
“I would say so,” said the goblin, blowing out his cheeks angrily. “That Svanis sought to lecture me on fiduciary policy. Can you imagine?”
I laughed. “I can. But I want you to stay. You can do so much good here.”
“But you are leaving?”
“Yes.” I was about to elaborate when several butlers entered, each carrying a tray covered with drinks or food. We thanked them as they set the platters down wherever they could find a bare space, and then rose to serve ourselves.
“Where are you all going?” asked Pogo at last. “And why? There is so much to be done here, Master Kellik.”
“But not by me.” I sat back, a glass of whisky in hand. “The power I had. It was too dangerous. Too tempting. I realized at the end that it was at odds with my greatest wish for the city.”
“Which is?”
“That the people have the freedom and opportunity to determine the quality of their own lives. To elect their own magistrates. I could remove obstacles, but I couldn’t lead. Not if leading meant commanding, using my king troll power. I’ve realized what a slippery slope that was. How it led to becoming my father, or worse.”
Pogo’s frown deepened. “Why this eggregious use of the past tense?”
I smiled with genuine emotion. “Because Iris freed me. She took my king troll power from me, and used it to release Aurora in turn. I’m just a regular man, now. Cut me, and I’ll just bleed all day long.”
“Not with me around,” said Tamara darkly.
“Gone?” asked Yashara. “And with it…?”
“My king troll form, yes.” I placed a hand on her muscled form. “Though I promise none of my desire or strength of will has gone with it.”
Yashara, who’d begun to look crestfallen, perked right back up.
Pogo frowned. “But… I believe you do yourself a disservice, Master Kellik. You would never have become your father. Your heart is too good.”
“That’s kind of you to say so. But only I know the darkness that lurked within me. The temptation that always raised its head whenever I hit an obstacle. How easy it was to believe I knew best simply because I had power. But the White Lioness herself showed me the error of that belief.”
“She did?” Pogo leaned forward. “Did you engage in a tête-à-tête?”
“No so much. I mean more in whom she was. What she represented. The inevitable creation of tragedies as I sought to acquire and hold power.”
“I see! But then… Iris? How did…?”
“Yes,” said Yashara. “I couldn’t make out what happened at the very end. You were all too far away.”
“Iris returned as she’d promised.” Even saying her name caused a knife to twist in my heart. “She returned once I found peace with myself. Came, saw the hereshen, and recognized her as her own creation. And to release Aurora from her curse, she drew in all her power and more. She used my king troll nature to fuel the last of her work, defy Mother Magrathaar, and grant Aurora peace.”
“Actually, I was the one who placated Mother Magrathaar,” said Netherys pointedly. “And now owe her my life’s sevice.”
“She’s not coming back, then?” Pogo leaned forward intently. “Iris is… as they say… dead dead?”
“Yes,” I said, voice growing tight. “She’s gone. Forever now.”
“Master Kellik, I’m so sorry,” said Pogo. “I know how close you two were, even though I thought her a cold-hearted, sociopathic monster with absolutely no morals and a predisposition to destroy the world.”
“Pogo,” warned Cerys.
“No, the funny thing is that he’s right. She was, on many levels. But she understood me. Understood that I had within me the potential to be something else. Inhuman. As sociopathic and monstrous as she. But… if you looked at the world from the point of view of a necromancer or a king troll, it’s not a problem to be inhuman. You are, by definition. And that allows all manner of new choices to be made. In the end, the one thing she desired for me was that I have integrity. And I achieved that. I think. And that’s why I was able to let go of my power. To choose to be mortal.”
“So that you don’t turn into a cold-hearted, sociopathic monster with absolutely no morals and a predisposition to destroy the world,” said Pogo, nodding his head.
“Right.” I cracked a pained grin at him.
“So where will you go? For the old goblin adage has never been truer: wherever you take you go, you take your endless desire for infinite amounts of gold with you.”
I sipped my whisky, glancing at the other four women. “I’m not sure.”
Well! This is all so very unexpected. And Pony?”
“I’ll let him decide.” I glanced at the doorway. “Hey, Pony?”
The war troll swung his head down and around into view.
“The girls and I are going to be leaving Port Gloom. Not sure where we’re headed, but if you want, we could make a go at finding you a lady troll who likes the cut of your jib. You want to come with, or hang out here with Pogo?”
Pony frowned, turned to consider the goblin, then looked back at me. It was no easy decision. Pogo, I knew, had saved Pony when he was young from a slave pit. They’d fought together, traveled together, loved each other.
But he revered Yashara, and he and I had a good thing going, too.
“Sorry, Pogo,” rumbled Pony.
The little goblin smiled even as his eyes teared up. “No, no, I insist you go with them. They need one responsible adult to keep them out of trouble.”
Pony grunted, then stepped inside and sat down against the wall.
“How soon will you go?” asked Pogo.
“Tomorrow,” I said. “I want to find Eddwick, make sure he agrees to work for you and help you steer of any future troubles.”
We subsided into a comfortable silence, each with a drink in hand, our eyes drawn as if by gravity to the great fireplace in whose hearth crackled a dying fire. Yashara slowly and lovingly caressed my hair, and I couldn’t have been more content.
“So strange, to think it’s come to this,” said Pogo, running a finger around the rim of his glass. “I close my eyes, and am assailed by all manner of memories. Riding the Bonegwayne to Port Lusander, up at the helm with Yashara, enjoying how the spray burst up each time the bow crested a large wave.”
“I close my eyes and remember the moment I chose to return to you all,” said Netherys, voice quiet. “I was so intent on leaving Port Gloom, on quitting you all. Finding my way back home. I was standing under the eave of some abandoned home, right on the edge of the docks, searching for a ship to board and sail away. And kept disqualifying every one I saw, until I realized at last that I didn’t want to go. That no ship, no matter how qualified, would serve. It was then that I turned and returned in time to help you all fight in that dust yard.”
“I remember when you showed up,” I said with a smile. “Could hardly believe my eyes.”
“I close my eyes and see…” began Tamara, then trailed off, lips pursed. We waited, giving her time. “I see so many things. The way Kellik looked when they brought him in that very first time. Covered in mud, bleeding from mortal wounds, his face gaunt, skin waxen. I thought they’d brought me a corpse. I remember the moment he promised to fund my own herbalist’s shop. The disbelief and joy I felt at thinking I might become independent. How, despite it being my dream, part of me didn’t want it. Didn’t want to settle down, to lose Kellik from my life. The turbulence and excitement he seemed to embody.”
“You were right on that score,” said Cerys.
Tamara smiled at her, continued. “I see his face the moment he decided to use the Eye in Port Lusander to free the swamp goblins. How he surprised us all, the Nautilus leader most of all. The moments of tenderness, of quiet. The long hours spent traveling. The still moments.”
“I remember how he came with me to kill Elias, the half-troll who had enslaved me,” said Cerys quietly. “How at any moment I’d expected him to leave, to abandon me. How he stood by m
y side, though, and fought that monster to death. I think I fell for him right there and then.” She turned to look at me, the firelight glittering in her eyes. “The moment you held me after as I wept, as he burned. For the first time, I felt… safe.”
“Boy were you wrong about that,” said Netherys, raising her eyebrows as she took a sip of her wine.
“I find it hard to believe we’ve come so far,” I said softly. “From lying on that muddy bank, fending off the gulls who wished to eat me alive, to sitting here in Thorne Manor with you all, having given up the keys to the city. I remember how monolithic the Family once seemed. How invincible my father had been. And to think we all defeated them. Freed the victims in Imogen’s Web. Destroyed the Aunts and Uncles.”
“Fought off an entire army,” said Cerys.
“Debatable,” said Netherys.
“We’ve seen so many fall,” I said, voice growing soft. “Lugin. Neko. Ashrat. Baleric. Iris. Havatier.”
“Defeated so many more,” said Tamara. “Lost and found ourselves. I feel like a completely different person from the Tamara you met, so long ago.”
“What about you, Pony?” asked Pogo. “What stands out to you from these past few years?”
We all turned to where the war troll sat. He frowned for the briefest of moments, then gave us a craggy smile. “Friends.”
“Ha!” Pogo smacked his knee. “Cuts right to the heart of it.”
“And I feel like I’ve come full circle,” said Netherys, a playful smile tugging at her purple lips. “As good now as I was when you first met me.”
“What will Mother Magrathaar ask of you?” asked Yashara.
The dark elf stared into the flames pensively. “I’m not sure. When we depart Port Gloom, I will make for Aglarond to commune with her at her greatest temple. I swore to compensate her for the loss of Aurora, however. I cannot go back on that word.”
“How long do you think that will take?” I asked, not having dared ask before.
“Six months, perhaps, to reach home. And then I will have to earn the right to approach the Ebon Altar. And then it will all depend on what the witch goddess asks of me.” Netherys considered me with a gleam in her eye. “You could come with, if you liked. I’m sure you’d absolutely love Aglarond and my friends.”
I laughed. “Right.”
“Ah,” said Pogo, smoothing down his vest. “I must admit I do enjoy considering how well I’ve done. I think it fair to say I am now one of the most important people in the entire city. From a Mailed Fist accountant to the head of the treasury, taxation office, and most of the government.”
“I’d hoped we’d find a chance to rest,” said Cerys. “Had this vision of a house, somewhere out in the countryside. Maybe down in Ellosaint, with our own vineyard, perhaps. Where we could hang up our weapons, stop looking over our shoulders, perhaps…”
“Perhaps what?” I asked.
Cerys glanced rapidly at me, blushed, shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Maybe we will,” said Tamara. “After all the violence and danger of these past few years, settling down for a spell sounds appealing.”
“What do you think?” I asked, looking up at Yashara. “Would you be interested in taking a break till Netherys completes her service for her goddess?
“Perhaps,” said Yashara, toying with my hair. “Especially if you select a farm next to a bandit-ridden forest. Our children will need a good hobby as they grow.”
I startled. “Our children?”
“Of course,” rumbled Yashara, smiling lovingly at me. “I would like a dozen or more. You will have to work hard, Kellik, if you are to fulfil me.”
I laughed nervously. “Perhaps we can pay some bandits to cause trouble twice a month.”
“Perhaps we can travel a little first,” said Tamara. “Khansalon is as broad as it is wonderful and strange. There are far more creatures and powers in it than I could ever imagine, and wouldn’t mind seeing some more before we settle down.”
“All questions we’ll have to answer in time,” said Cerys, rising to her feet and stretching toward the ceiling. “But for now, I’ve put off a bath long enough.”
“Agreed,” said Tamara. “The four of us should clean up and prepare for some rest.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Only the four of you?”
Netherys rose to her feet, languorous as a panther. “Of course. You think you’re getting any sleep tonight?”
“I, uh? Maybe?”
Yashara smiled and reached down to pat my cheek. “Oh no. You’ve got a full night ahead of you.”
“I do?”
“Yes. We’re going to take turns.”
“Going to take - oh. Oh!” Had I thought I was past blushing?
Tamara chuckled as she headed out the door. “I was outvoted. I thought I could have you all to myself tonight.”
“But I reminded her that we need to determine how much of your king troll stamina remains,” said Cerys. “It will be a grueling experience for you, but you’d best get used to taking care of us all properly.”
Netherys was the last out the door. “But do freshen up. I’d rather make love to a man than a midden heap.”
Pony watched them go, then looked over at me and shook his head in commiseration.
“I do not envy you, Master Kellik,” said Pogo, leaning back and swirling his whisky around within his sifter. “Well, perhaps a little.”
I raked my fingers through my head and laughed ruefully. “Fuck. I think they’re getting altogether too comfortable with me.”
Pogo looked at me sidelong. “You object?”
“I guess not,” I said, then stood and rubbed at my face. “I’d best go clean up.”
“I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors,” said Pogo, rising to his feet as well. “As well as everything that shall befall you tomorrow and ever after.”
I moved to the front of his desk and extended my hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Pogo. I’ll never forget it.”
He reached forward to clasp my hand with both of his. “The honor, Master Kellik, has been entirely mine. These have been the most singular years of my life. I look forward with anticipation to the chaos and terror you shall bring with you when you return to Port Gloom.”
I chuckled. “Which, no doubt, shall be a model of efficiency and maximized taxation by that point.”
“A poor goblin can only dream,” he said, drawing his hands back. “Please keep in touch. I shall think unceasingly of you over the months to come.”
“I will,” I said. Hesitating, I glanced around the massive study, at the piles of documents that represented Port Gloom’s future. “So strange. That it has all come to an end like this.”
“But one chapter of your long life, Master Kellik. But one chapter. You now set out upon the next, accompanied by women of strength, fortitude, and sterling character. I couldn’t ask for a greater blessing to bestow upon you.” Pogo smiled fondly at me. “You are a good man, Master Kellik. Khansalon is fortunate to have you walking its surface.”
“Thank you, Pogo. Take care of Port Gloom for me, will you?” I felt emotion surge in my chest, and smiled to keep it down. “I’m rather fond of this old city.”
“I promise to do my best.”
We stood thus far a moment longer, then I bowed my head, nodded once, and turned to leave the study in search of a tub full of hot water. Patting Pony’s shoulder on the way out, I emerged into the brightly lit hallway.
There I paused. It felt indelibly as if I were leaving something behind - closing, as Pogo had said, a great and formative chapter in my life.
But the future awaited, in the form of clean sheets, lithe, loving women, and a quest to restore one of my loves even as I sought to remove yet another great evil from the world.
Heart buoyed, energy stealing into my limbs, emotion surging within me, I grinned and set forth.
Epilogue
~ Five Years Later ~
“Kellik!”
I jerked my head up, frowned in the direction of the farmhouse. Tamara was standing in the covered porch, wiping her hands on the white apron she wore over her blue summer dress. Her tone was urgent, but not panicked; not a threat, then.
It still meant I was going to have to stop working on the busted water chute. With a grimace, I set down my wrench and considered kicking the old wooden construct. It had given us hell since we’d moved in, and each time I thought I had it fixed, it waited just long enough for me to lower my guard and act up again.
To the unending amusement of my wives.
“What?” I hollered back, visoring my eyes with the flat of my hand as I scoped out the rear of our property. The farmhouse was a massive, rambling affair, an entirely new wing added to the left where Yashara had insisted on quarters designed to her larger frame. The old tiles needed scraping, and the western chimney looked like it was about to topple over, but otherwise, it was in fine form. Good bones, the place had - the kind in which to weather any storm.
“Kellik!” Impatience tinged her voice. “Come!”
“What have they done now?” I pulled off my gloves, shoving them in my belt, and strode through the knee-high grass. I nearly tripped on an abandoned wooden training sword, which I fished up with the practiced ease of any parent.
Tamara’s hands were pale with flour; no amount of rubbing was getting them any cleaner. More endearingly, she’d smudged flour across her cheek, dusting her hair with it, too. Whatever was happening had really distracted her.
She was clearly done yelling, however, and instead waited, hands on her hips, as I leaped over the trickling stream, climbing up the bank toward her.
“What is it?” I said, reaching the foot of the porch, casting about for some manner of beverage. A random jug of iced water, perhaps, sitting close at hand and beaded with condensation.
No such luck.
“Someone’s coming down the road,” said Tamara. “You should come see.”
I climbed up the steps and leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips. “Someone? Who?”
“Come see already.” She grinned, took my hand, and pulled me in through the back door.