Blood of the Tallan (The Petralist Book 7)

by Frank Morin

  Aifric’s gown was trimmed in white, with yellow flowers. Connor couldn’t remember the names of any of them. She looked stunning, although her smile kept subtly changing as different ladies cycled through the control position in her body. As he drew closer to Verena, his thoughts seemed to scatter and he couldn’t think about anything but her.

  They joined the girls, and Connor wanted to shout with joy when Verena slipped her warm hands into his. It was really happening. They were really getting married.

  King Henrik rose from his throne on a smaller platform several steps above the dais where Connor and the others stood. The Grandurian king was a big man, clearly a Rumbler, and notoriously proud of it. He and Rory had gotten along famously when they first met. His wife, Queen Sybilie, was younger than the king, a tall, striking woman in her thirties with classic Grandurian blond hair and blue eyes, which were glowing softly at the moment. She was very close to Verena, and she’d interviewed Connor politely but extensively when they’d met a few days prior. He liked her immensely.

  Their son, Crown Prince Theodor, also sat on the throne tier with his lovely wife, Lady Adelaide. Connor had no idea what, if any, affinities she possessed, and had only spoken with her briefly. His first impression was very good, and Verena spoke highly of her. If not for the fact that he was very good friends with the king and queen of Obrion, the prospect of close association with Grandurian royalty would probably awe him more. It was still fun, and he looked forward to getting to know the people behind the titles.

  It was rare for the king of Granadure to personally officiate a wedding, but not even he could ignore this one. Verena was a favorite of his queen’s, and Jean was one of the most popular people alive. Not only was she a war hero, famous for being an Obrioner commoner raised to nobility, ruler of the city that was fast burgeoning into one of the most important seats of learning and innovation in the world, but her Render flights and Mender flights had been making headlines all across the kingdom with their healing and their revolutionary work with semi-autonomous crafted prosthetics.

  Aifric was the ruler of the deadly Mhortair, and Kilian was, well, Kilian.

  King Henrik smiled and raised his hands for attention, even though an expectant hush had already settled over the vast assembly and every eye was already locked on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but a window high on the left wall whisked open with a loud clatter that seemed ten times louder in the silence.

  Nicklaus swooped inside, wearing his battle suit. He rarely took it off, probably to keep Christin from finding an excuse to send it for laundering for seven years. A glowing tether trailed him, and a couple seconds later, the end of the tether appeared. It was a bubble of air made with quartzite shieldstones, and inside the bubble stood Stuart and Stefanie, the buxom daughter of Lord Wenzel of Emmerich. They were dressed just like the other couples, although Stuart looked so terrified, Connor suspected he was on the verge of soiling his fancy britches.

  Stefanie laughed and waved, her thick, blond hair loose about her shoulders.

  Beside Connor, Verena’s shoulders shook in silent laughter and she whispered, “I wondered where they ended up.”

  Connor had forgotten all about them. He felt bad about that, but how much could a guy remember on his wedding day? He would have probably forgotten the others too if they hadn’t shown up. Verena consumed his every sense and every thought.

  Nicklaus landed on the dais with a rush of thrusters, his young face flushed with excitement, his wide grin completely unapologetic. He waved to the king and said, “Sorry we’re late, Uncle. I hope you didn’t start without us.”

  The king closed his eyes, sighed, and said calmly, “You’re almost late, Nicklaus.”

  “Sorry, Uncle King Henrik,” the boy said, not sounding sorry at all. “I had to show them my new sewage treatment plant.”

  “It is indeed a marvel,” the king admitted.

  The air bubble faded away, allowing Stuart and Stefanie to approach. Stefanie curtsied gracefully, and Stuart made an awkward bow. He glanced around, looking more terrified by the second, but Connor gave him an encouraging smile.

  Stefanie gestured toward her loose hair and gushed, “If I may, Your Majesty, that treatment plant is amazing! Nicklaus’ mechanicals convert the worst refuse into pure water. I washed my hair in it!”

  The king looked surprised, and low, astonished murmurs ran through the assembly. Verena blinked and fingered her own hair.

  “I bet you wish you’d thought of that,” Connor whispered.

  “Um, maybe not today,” she said, then smiled. “It doesn’t surprise me that Stefanie did.”

  Emboldened by the king’s graciousness, Stuart dared to add, “Tasted perfect, Your Majesty. We dropped off several barrels at the buffet table for everyone to try.”

  He looked proud of himself, and King Henrik managed to mask any concern the announcement made him feel. Connor noticed Hamish smirking, and back in the rows of spectators, more than a few people looked suddenly nervous.

  “Why don’t you go find your mother so we can get started?” the king suggested to Nicklaus.

  “Okay.” Instead of trotting down the stairs, he jumped back into the air and whooshed over to a tall woman seated in the front row. She looked strikingly similar to Queen Sybilie, and she simply shifted slightly to the side so Nicklaus could land beside her, then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Christin sat on that bench too, looking resigned.

  “I am glad to see you decided not to miss your own wedding,” King Henrik commented, looking more amused than irritated by the late entrance. The couple took the hint and scurried to take their placed in line with the other couples.

  No one would forget that wedding.

  King Henrik adjusted his opulent robe slightly and regained his air of regal authority. He scanned their group and smiled approvingly. When he spoke, his rich voice carried easily across the great room. Connor didn’t think he was using a Longseer, but was simply an experienced orator.

  “Before we begin, I would like to personally thank each and every one of you for the critical roles you’ve played in recent months to secure the safety of Granadure. Today we celebrate not only your unions, but the freedom of our people, the start of a vibrant new monarchy in Obrion, and a union between our nations closer than we’ve ever enjoyed.”

  That triggered a loud round of cheering, which the king allowed to run its course before continuing. “It is therefore appropriate that we unite Obrioners and Grandurians in matrimony, building upon the sterling precedent set by Granadure’s famous battle maiden Anika to her beloved Lord Rory.”

  That triggered another round of applause, and Connor turned with Verena and the others to clap as Rory and Anika rose from their seats near the front of the room. The two of them waved, and the applause swelled further. They were immensely popular in both countries, and Rory had been forced to deal with the attention, even though he preferred being left alone. Anika seemed to thrive on it, and Connor didn’t doubt she’d keep Rory active in the public arena. It would be good for both of them, and good for both of their countries.

  King Henrik finally raised a hand for calm and nodded toward Stuart and Stefanie. I am also pleased to see the people of Alasdair formally uniting with the people of Emmerich.”

  The two raised their hands to more cheering. Stuart looking nervous, but proud, and Connor marveled at how much progress he’d made. He might not have participated in the war, but he had helped lead the people of Alasdair in forging a new life, and had grown into a new man in the process.

  Then the king turned to Kilian and actually bowed. “And to you, my dear great uncle. To think I am the one honored to unite you for the first time in marriage, and to such a special woman.”

  Kilian nodded acceptance of the honor as he and Aifric raised their hands to thunderous applause. Connor had to fight down the urge to whoop out loud. Kilian, everyone’s uncle, the eternal bachelor, had finally found his match. Connor couldn’t imagine anyone else
even trying to keep up with Aifric. Nor could he imagine any other woman keeping up with Kilian.

  King Henrik smiled and raised his hands again, loudly proclaiming, “Then let us begin! Today you are all witness as we unite in marriage these four remarkable couples!”

  She said yes.

  The thought echoed through Connor’s mind over and over again as he embraced Verena and kissed her minty lips for the first time as man and wife. His mind whirled, and he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but her. His heart was so full it might burst, and he wanted to laugh, but doubted even that would be enough.

  Verena’s eyes glittered with emotion, and she hugged him so hard, she had to be tapping a little granite. He grunted as she squeezed most of his breath out, but didn’t complain. She could crush him to jelly, and he wouldn’t care.

  She was his wife!

  The wonder of it made thinking difficult. The ceremony had passed in a blur. He couldn’t remember any of the king’s words, couldn’t remember the vows, although they were engraven in his heart. He would cherish and love Verena for the length of their lives. They were bound together now, and nothing would ever separate them.

  It seemed everyone swarmed the dais, pounding him on the back, hugging Verena and congratulating them, but Connor couldn’t remember any of them. They all blurred together into a long line of faces and handshakes and hugs. He was delirious with happiness and didn’t want to ever awaken from the wonder of it.

  After who knew how long, they worked through the crowd and the benches were cleared away, replaced by feasting tables. An outdoor court was transformed into a dance floor, and he grinned to think of dancing with Verena again. He might not be able to loan her obsidian, but she was so graceful, she didn’t need it to keep up with him.

  At one point, he and Verena actually managed to find a quiet moment at a cloth-draped table to eat something, with only his parents sitting with them. His mother was still dabbing at her eyes, looking as happy as Connor had ever seen, and his father was fairly bursting with pride.

  “Oh, Verena, give me another hug,” Lilias said, wrapping Verena in another of her famous embraces. Connor felt convinced that his family loved Verena far more than they’d ever loved him. They were smart that way.

  “Where are you going for your honeymoon?” his mother asked.

  “It’ll be sort of a working vacation,” Connor explained.

  Verena added, “We’ve got to return to Merkland first to help Lord Rory with a few things.”

  Connor smiled to hear Rory’s new title. With Shona moving to Donleavy, someone needed to rule the vital city of Merkland, and Rory had already proven himself more than capable. He’d still looked stunned by the official announcement, which Shona made right after her coronation, but Anika had whooped in her usual exuberant fashion and thrown him right up to the roof.

  They were the first of an entirely new breed of nobility that would forever change what it meant to be a lord or lady of Obrion. Connor couldn’t imagine better role models.

  “Then we’re going to do some traveling,” Connor said.

  “Where?” Lilias asked eagerly, clearly hoping he would say Emmerich.

  “Everywhere,” Verena said with a grin. “We’re going to take the Hawk and come to Emmerich of course.”

  His parents beamed at that, but Verena continued with the bad news. “After that, we’ll visit all over Granadure, then visit our friends in every one of the Arishat League nations.”

  “That will be a long trip,” his father commented.

  It would be, and Connor was excited about it. He had long wanted to see the other nations of the Arishat, but the trip wouldn’t be pure vacation. Ivor had suggested it as a way to help cement positive relationships between the new Obrion and their international neighbors. It also rewarded them with a much-needed break.

  The idea was only one of many the new king and queen of Obrion had come up with to lead their nation forward. The coronations had been spectacular, and most of the nation seemed thrilled with their new monarchs. Ivor was one of the most skilled in learning people’s strengths and weaknesses. Shona was his equal, plus she had a lifetime of experience in Obrioner political intrigue, so she knew all the players and how to work with them.

  Together, they might just have the skills and the savvy to save the nation and actually build the future they were promising. Connor wished them the best of luck and was happy he didn’t have to get locked into a stuffy title too. Their schedules were nuts.

  “Kilian and Aifric will be joining us,” Verena added.

  As much as Connor wanted uninterrupted time with Verena, he looked forward to traveling with those two. Life would definitely be interesting. Student Eighteen was still figuring out where to settle her people and what new mission they would adopt now that the queen was gone forever and their much celebrated Mistress One was married to the son of the matron of evil.

  Everyone had problems to solve. He hoped the Mhortair would focus on international culinary diplomacy. They were as good at that as Hamish.

  Kilian would act as the official representative on their upcoming trip together, since he had been given the title of Master of the Arcane at Connor’s insistence. So of course he had recommended Connor receive the title too. And Verena’s father had convinced King Henrik to bestow a Grandurian lordship on Connor too. That way, as much as he’d grown to like Connor, he wouldn’t have to deal with the embarrassment of his daughter marrying a foreign commoner. Apparently Verena’s father had already arranged a house for them in New Schwinkendorf already. That had been a huge surprise.

  On the trip, another mission would be to create a plan to deal with the elfonnel slumbering at each of the convergence points and decide if it made more sense to remove them and thus block access to the most dangerous levels of Petralist powers.

  Connor wasn’t convinced that was the right choice, but they had time. The elementals were still behaving badly, so they didn’t want to risk raising an elfonnel who might be used as a vehicle for the offended elementals to unleash their fury upon the world. Besides, he and Verena needed time to explore Nicklaus’ fascinating relationship with the newly conscious serpentinite. Connor could tap serpentinite, but hadn’t coaxed her into speaking with him yet. Hopefully she’d prove a different kind of elemental, but they planned to approach her carefully.

  As they traveled the continent, they would also bring some of Ailsa’s sculpted stones to other convergence points to restore slate, marble, and serpentinite. The secret of convergence points was still closely guarded, but the leaders of every nation knew about them. Connor would map all of the convergence points, and negotiations over which ones in which countries would host each of the affinities was still ongoing. The final decisions could potentially affect the distribution of Petralist powers in dramatic ways.

  “Then you’ll return to Emmerich?” his mother pressed.

  Connor said, “I promise we’ll return for a longer stay, and we’ll come visit a lot more often.”

  Verena added, “We’ll settle in New Schwinkendorf for the foreseeable future, so that’s not very far.”

  His mother sighed, and Connor doubted she’d feel completely happy unless they settled in Emmerich next door to them. He’d love to spend a year with them, but doubted he could pull Verena away from her workshops in New Schwinkendorf that long.

  Verena grinned. “Wait till you see the latest vehicle we’re building. We’re using a type of explosive fuel as propulsion. We should be able to make the trip in half the time.”

  Connor grinned at his parents’ worry. Life with Verena would never be dull.

  Bring it on.

  Thumbs Up? Or Thumbs Down?

  Now that we’ve reached the end, can I assume you’ve enjoyed the books?

  I hope so.

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  If not, please do. Tons of great reviews help convince other readers to try this series.

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br />   Please also share how much you love these books with your friends. Help them find Connor and Verena, Hamish and Jean, Kilian, Aifric, Aunt Ailsa, and all the other characters you’ve come to love.

  Thanks for joining me for this epic ride!

  Frank

  Author’s Note

  It’s both super exciting to bring you the last Petralist book, as well as bittersweet. The story is finished.

  For now.

  There is definitely lots more story that could be told in the Petralist world. Someday, maybe we’ll return and explore new adventures.

  Until then, please tell your friends about these books, and please consider checking out my other stories.

  I’m honored you’ve stuck with me through all these huge books, and even bothered to read this final note. You are awesome.

  As always, I’m happy to hear from you. Drop me an email, or stop to chat at one of the conventions I attend.

  Who was one of your favorite characters?

  What was a favorite scene?

  Do you have a favorite joke?

  Until then,

  Look deep, see clear, and eat tons of sweetbreads!

  Frank

  Also by Frank Morin

  Find all books here!

  The Petralist Series

  Set in Stone—Book One

  A Stone’s Throw—Book Two

  No Stone Unturned—Book Three

  Affinity for War—Book Four

  The Queen’s Quarry—Book Five

  The King’s Craft—Book Six

  Blood of the Tallan—Book Seven

  Other Petralist Stories

  When Torcs Fly—Tomas and Cameron prequel

  Game of Garlands—Anika prequel

  Builder of Intrigue—Aunt Ailsa prequel

  The Facetakers Series